


Defying Gods just to bring you back (over and over again)

by ScriptaManent



Series: As the poets say [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst with a Happy Ending, Every character is a greek entity, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Got some inspiration from Percy Jackson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orpheus & Eurydice Retelling (with a Happy Ending), Sad background stories and happy developments, Temporary Character Death, The gods said fuck gender conformity, Yes there's volleyball in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: I have to bring him back.This was the only thing Tooru had in mind, the only thing that mattered. He didn’t care that he’d have to go all the way down to the Underworld; he didn’t care that he’d have to meet Hades himself and persuade him to give him Hajime back. Tooru would have done anything, and so he did. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that he would find the most precious allies in the realm of death.A retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice through Oikawa and Iwaizumi, with several twists, a lot of familiar faces, and a happy ending.
Relationships: And other pining suffering idiots, Background Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Bokuto Koutarou & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Oikawa makes friends
Series: As the poets say [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972504
Comments: 46
Kudos: 50





	1. The ferryman draped in darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks for joining Tooru's adventure in the Underworld! There you will be met with giant dogs, furies and wandering souls... but you might make new friends along the way._
> 
> This is a completed work and I will be posting one chapter a week, every Sunday around 12:30 (PST)  
> Rating might go up to M by chapter 14 depending on the way I edit a scene, so please be aware of it. Be reassured, though, **I will put content warning here in the top notes for every chapter when it applies!**
> 
> Chapter 1 content warning: implied character death (flashbacks)
> 
> And thank you @shikamarubase for the beta, you're a godsent ♡

From his surroundings, Tooru could barely discern anything but darkness. Beneath his bare feet, the ground was going down and down and down, a never ending descent into the Underworld – literally. No one in their right mind would choose to go to the land of the dead… Perhaps that meant his was no longer sane.

The young man kept walking forward, his hand dragging on the damp, cold stone of the cavern wall. The only sounds he could hear were his own pulse echoing around, the same loud melody, along with the only thought that his mind kept yelling, chanting, shouting, crying, howling.

_I have to bring him back._

It seemed like he had been going down for days when he first heard them… the cries, rising from the end of the way. The laments of tormented souls. They grew louder as the echo of Tooru’s footsteps faded, and in front of him the narrow corridor opened up to a cavern so wide it couldn’t be called a room – for it was, after all, a whole other world.

Torches flamed blue in the Underworld, giving the atmosphere the coldness of death. A thick mist crawled on the ground, curling around Tooru’s ankles like a sentient creature when he moved through.

He could see rivers coursing in the dim light, made of things that were nothing near water. On the nearest riverbank, a small bark awaited, floating over a silver stream that shone like liquid mercury under the torches’ flames. A man dressed in darkness stood over the edge, his features hidden in the shadows by a hood that swirled like smoke. He was holding a ferryman’s pole in one hand. His fingers were so pale and thin they looked like bones.

When the man sensed Tooru’s presence and turned to him, his dark blue eyes struck the mortal. Charon’s look was glazed, and yet Tooru had the awful sensation the man was staring straight into his soul, probing it.

“An obol is needed for whoever wants to cross the river,” Charon spoke, his voice harsher than his slow moves led to believe. It sounded like rocks sliding down the side of a mountain.

Tooru froze in front of him, even though Charon’s juvenile face made him look younger than Tooru’s mortal body. He put his hands to his satchel, a frown hiding the fear that threatened to wash over his determination, and emptied it on the bare ground.

“It seems this is all I have,” Tooru apologized, his eyes locked on the boatman’s face.

He knew for sure that Odysseus had managed to trick the Gods and bend deities to his will by sheer force of his wit – he wasn’t Athena’s favourite for nothing. The man had always been skilled in manipulating people into trusting him, only to use them later on. All that Tooru could hope for was that he was at least one third as cunning as his comrade.

At his feet lay three drachma, a short knife, a vellum and a sealed amphora the size of his forearm. The ferryman’s eyes lingered on the last item, shining with curiosity.

“What’s in there?”

Tooru repressed a sigh of relief. Odysseus hadn’t lied when he had told him Charon had a sweet tooth. Hopefully this would be his way in.

“Oh, it’s milk and honey,” Tooru casually answered. “It’s from a family farm near the place I used to live. The family business, you could call it,” he continued with a shrug.

He reached out for the amphora, lifting it to put it back into his satchel, his movements deliberately slow.

“I’ll take it,” Charon cut through the darkness, an eager edge to his voice. It turned into a mumble when he continued. “I can’t remember the last time I got to taste milk…”

Tooru handed it over to him, repressing a smug smirk. He owed the wily snake Odysseus one. Even though he didn’t like being in his debt, the advice was his ticket into the lands of the dead, and his first real step toward Hajime.

His eyes darkened at the memory of his final words...

“Ah, I think my time is over,” Hajime had whispered with a sad smile, all light fading from his eyes like a blown candle. It had happened in a dream, but when Tooru jolted awake, he knew Hajime had really visited him – had known he would find Hajime on the beach, his skin pale as ever, his closed eyes never able to see him again.

Tears burnt the corners of Tooru’s eyes and he blinked them away quickly, his now wary gaze back on Charon.

“Hurry up, now,” the boatman spoke again, his tone suddenly tainted with annoyance. “I don’t have all day. There’s a match in fifty minutes and I need to get ready.”

A confused frown creased Tooru’s forehead. He carefully climbed aboard the wobbly barque, his eyes never leaving Charon’s back, and sat as far as he could from the soul carrier.

“A match? What do you mean, a match?” he couldn’t help but ask when it was obvious Charon was done speaking.

They were going so slowly that he considered taking a swim to his destination, but the weird shapes that swirled in the liquid deterred him from diving in. The other glared at him from over his shoulder, unaware of Tooru’s train of thoughts.

“Volleyball. Where do you come from?” Charon said in an infuriating voice, as if he was facing the most stupid person he had ever met. “The Asphodel team is one of the best around here. I want to play against them.”

The disbelieving grimace Tooru made at these words would probably have been weird enough to scare Hephaestus himself.

“Volleyball? What even is that?”

The boat stopped short, staying unearthly still on the running stream. Charon turned around slowly, his stick held tight in his grip. He glared down at Tooru, his black hair dissolving into shadows at the tips, blending with the darkness around.

“Volleyball is the only thing that matters. It’s a sport even the Gods play in Olympus,” he explained, passion burning into his mad eyes, pointing a finger at the ceiling and everything that stood above. “Every year the Gods meet for the ultimate match. Olympus faces the Underworld. Nymphs and Gods play alike. Apollo even recruits from the Asphodels, and this year it will be my turn.”

“But I thought you were supposed to carry the souls of the mortals that died?” Tooru said, motioning to encompass everything around them. “Who’s gonna do the job if you leave to play… volleyball?”

Charon’s mouth twitched into a hurt expression and he turned back to the river Styx. The boat drifted slowly on the water, sliding on the odd surface.

“Charon isn’t my real name. It’s more like a title,” he explained, his shoulders dropping suddenly.

Tooru regretted he could no longer see his face.

“I wasn’t even born to be the next Charon, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. The last one, he… retired when I happened to need a ride, and they gave me the role.”

His silhouette was stiff as he spoke and he resolutely stared forward. Tooru tilted his head to one side, his interest piqued. He didn’t understand everything Charon said, but it appeared to him the man wasn’t thriving in his current job.

“What’s your name, then?”

He had the feeling that Charon wasn’t usually one to open up so easily, and with every second that passed, Tooru feared he would stop talking. Any information he could get about this place and its people might be vital for him and Hajime, so Tooru had to take every opportunity that showed up.

There was a pause, and Charon’s face imperceptibly turned toward the mortal passenger, his gaze hidden in the shadows once again.

“Names don’t matter in the Underworld.”

“Sounds like they do to you, though,” the mortal hazarded.

Another long silence followed, only broken by the shrieks of faraway creatures. Tooru refused to believe they had once been humans; refused to even consider the eventuality that Hajime was among them.

Unaffected by the ambient sounds, Charon replied in the same hollow tone that went with the role, his voice almost a whisper.

“Tobio,” he said at last, as if the word was now meaningless, a memory from another life.

A grin spread on the mortal’s lips and his eyes narrowed in content. It was said names held power, and he hoped the rumour was right.

Not able to do anything but wait, Tooru took a more comfortable position in the boat, tilting his head back to study the cavern above. Stalactites were hanging from the rocky ceiling far above them, as little tangible as the blue sky of the mortal world. He thought of Hajime, of all the way he had already come and all the way he’d still have to walk to reach him in this place where death was more concrete than life.

Tobio remained silent, leaving Tooru lost in his thoughts. After drifting on the mercury-like stream for a while, the mortal straightened up and faked a cheerful smile.

“Alright, Tobio! Now drive me to Hades, will you? I’ve got some business to attend to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic actually comes from a dream Oikawa has in another big project of mine (still unpublished), but I loved the idea so much I had to make it a full fic... It got out of hand, as you can see, haha.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and see you next week for **Chapter 2: The guardians of the gates**! ♡  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	2. The guardians of the gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru ventures in the Underworld with only one thing in mind: finding Hades to bargain with him and get Hajime back. But first things first, he has to get past Cerberus and the three curious figures that keep their eyes on him.
> 
> In which Tooru meets Cerberus and furies, and Bokuto deserves a hug.

They had been travelling together in silence for so long that Tooru had found himself dozing off more than once, but eventually the pace of Charon’s boat slowed down and the main gates appeared on the horizon, pitch black and standing tall, even though they were nothing more than doors without a wall. A path led to and through them, blank and devoid of any footprint, for the dead left no trace, and above them, under the sky-ceiling of the Underworld, three winged figures hovered ominously, flying in circles like birds of prey. From time to time, one of them dove down for a few seconds before flying up again. They didn’t make a sound, didn’t show any kind of interest, but their mere presence was enough to send shivers down Tooru’s spine.

He straightened up and turned around to get a better look at what was waiting for him. Cerberus was so big that Tooru nearly missed him at first. There he was, laying in front of the gates, a three-headed beast the size of a temple and covered in dark fur. One of its heads was resting on its forepaws, one was chewing at something of unknown origin, and the last one was watching around, ears flicking in every direction as he picked up sounds that were inaudible to a human’s ears. Behind Cerberus and the gates, out of sight, sat the three judges that sent souls to their final destination.

The atmosphere changed as soon as the creatures spotted the embarkation. Cerberus lifted his heads and they focused as one on the boat that landed ashore — he could have destroyed it with only a whip of his tail. The creature growled lowly, threatening. In the sky, the three silhouettes flew closer. They remained in the dark, too far for Tooru to make out their features, and perched on top of the gates when Tooru set foot on the ground, hiding behind the three-headed dog to study the newcomer

“Oooh, looks like we have another one,” one of the winged creatures purred, tilting his head to one side.

“They’re getting more common,” another one replied, sounding annoyed.

The human took a step. Cerberus barked, the earth quaking under his voice. Tooru stepped forward again without a glance back at Charon — the man had done his part, now it was Tooru’s turn to walk toward destiny.

The hell hound growled louder as he approached, and the mortal stopped at his paws, keeping his breath deep and in check. One of the guardian’s heads lowered to Tooru’s height, blowing a fetid smell right into his face, and Cerberus bared two sharp rows of teeth at the human.

“Mortals are not allowed to roam freely in the realm of the dead,” the head said in a man’s voice, the other two echoing behind.

Tooru flinched for a fraction of second but he fixed his expression just as quickly, careful not to show any of the surprise and dread that washed over him at the new information. Okay. Cerberus could talk. Right. What, now?

He took a deep breath in — choked on the smell of the hound’s breath — and stared straight into Cerberus’ eyes.

“I am here to bargain with the lord of the Underworld.”

Tooru spoke the words slowly, firmly, saying for the last time this crucial sentence he had been repeating for months. He poured all his will into the words, all his determination fueled by despair and grief.

Cerberus’ head backed away a little and it titled to one side as the dog sat back on his hindquarter to study the dauntless human. He closed his mouth and his ears lay flat on his skull, silent, thoughtful. Tooru kept his eyes on the closest head, but he was careful enough to keep the other two in his line of sight.

After a moment, the dog stepped aside to give access to the doorway, bowing his heads with something that Tooru would have interpreted as respect, even though he couldn’t quite understand it. The mortal narrowed his eyes in distrust, but the guardian allowed him to pass through the gates without making a move to attack him, his middle head studying Tooru curiously.

“Such a waste of potential,” he finally said, as if speaking to himself.

Tooru didn’t turn around to ask what Cerberus meant. He kept his eyes on the horizon where he supposed Hades resided, crossed the gates, and walked the path that he hoped would lead him to Hajime.

Enormous paws made the ground tremble as Cerberus followed the mortal; wings flapped the air as the furies kept up with the improbable duo, and when Tooru looked over his shoulder, swirling shadows informed him that Charon was tagging along far behind. The mortal had become the leader of a bizarre parade, and he wasn’t sure what to think about it, but as long as they didn’t get in his way, he didn’t care that people stuck with him.

A soft sound resonated near Tooru when one of the furies landed beside him, and flashes of grey and gold alternated in his peripheral vision when the creature of the Underworld peered at him from behind.

“What?” Tooru eventually blurted out, coming to a stop to face the black and silver haired Erinye that froze in front of him, eyes widened in surprise.

Tooru put his hand on his hip, not faking the irritation that boiled in his veins. He didn’t have the luxury of wasting his time, but his incongruous followers didn’t seem to care. Cerberus sat behind the fury like a giant puppy waiting for an order, his gaze on Tooru already beginning to get under the mortal’s skin.

“You’re not dead, are you? What are you doing here?” the winged one asked in a genuinely cheerful tone.

He stepped closer to the mortal and rotated around him like he had never seen a human before. From up close, his stature was even more impressive than when he was flying in the sky.

The fury was built like a grizzly bear, thick wings folded against his back, the feathers matching the colour of his hair and spiking in every direction. Tooru recognized the silent plumage of an owl in the way they were shaped, and for a second, he wondered if the Erinye was related to Athena in any way.

Finally, the most striking of his features was his unsettling look, for it was the colour of gold and he never blinked. He kept his eyes on Tooru, waiting for an answer, and his gaze sparkled with something that looked like pure, innocent joy.

“I need to bargain with Hades,” Tooru repeated, less formal than the first time and definitely more irritated.

“They all do,” the owl fury said, nodding gravely. “Got to take Cerberus for a walk, got to bring Persephone back to their mom, got to steal something as a souvenir… Yet barely any succeeds.”

Tooru glared down on him, unwavering. “I will.”

He didn’t have a choice anyway.

Again, Cerberus let out a heavy sigh and Tooru turned to send him a gloomy look. The more time passed, the less he liked the way the hound followed him around like he was both eager to see what he would do next and like he was the hugest disappointment he had ever faced.

“Don’t you have gates to guard?” Tooru insisted, his thinning nerves showing through his voice.

“The Underworld is pretty quiet these days. We’re waiting for more souls to come before we open the gates for them,” the smug fury replied in the dog’s place, bringing Tooru’s attention back on the other two Erinyes — he hadn’t noticed them landing at his sides.

The one who had talked had silk-like black wings, their shape sharper than the owl’s round ones. His stature reminded Tooru of a cavern lion: lean and muscular, ready to jump at people’s throat in less than a fraction of second. His hair fell on his face, hiding one of his eyes, but he didn’t appear to mind. A sly smirk seemed engraved on his features, never leaving his lips, as if he found the world around him both highly interesting and incredibly amusing. He was a cat toying with a mouse, and Tooru was his new prey.

Beside him, the third fury had his face turned in the direction of the Styx from which Charon was coming. He had stopped walking as soon as the fury had landed. They were staring at each other as if they were waiting for the perfect opportunity to draw a sword neither of them possessed, the blond fury’s face showing nothing but profound disdain as he looked down upon the world. On his back were long feathered wings, black and thick — the wings of a raven.

“Besides, the judges decided to take a few days off,” the owl Erinye added, pointing at the three empty thrones carved in the stone not far from them. His hair deflated like feathers when his gaze lingered on one of them, but he turned back to Tooru when he spoke again. “We weren’t expecting anyone to come by.”

He hopped closer, his mood switching from sadness to curiosity, and Tooru refrained from taking a step back to put a safer distance between the two of them.

“Do you want us to show you around?” the owl continued.

Pity washed over Tooru in front of the fury’s behaviour. There was a light in his eyes that the winged creature couldn’t fully conceal, and Tooru knew loss when he saw it. From the tone of his voice to the way he kept coming closer, hovering around the mortal like he had nothing better to do and needed social interactions, the owl was clearly missing someone. Whether that judge had vanished or effectively taken a day off remained a mystery.

“I have business to attend with Hades, I can’t afford to waste even one second,” Tooru said nonetheless, and the fury backed away as if he had been punched in the guts. “You must understand,” he added, his voice sharper and a pained expression on his face. “There’s someone I need back.”

The fury’s hair deflated once more. His shoulders hunched and sadness filled his eyes, yet he nodded, his long wings nearly dragging onto the floor behind him.

Not far from them, someone cleared his throat, drawing Tooru’s attention.

“Actually, Hades will probably be watching the match,” the panther-like fury said, pointing his hand in the general direction of the horizon, a victorious grin across his lips.

Beside him, the blond one glared, apparently not pleased that his companion disclosed such information.

“He’s been going to the past ones,” Tobio confirmed as he approached, careful to keep Cerberus between him and the blond raven.

He walked straight ahead without stopping, leading the way, not caring whether the others followed or not. After all, he had said he had a match to play, that made sense that he didn’t want to stick with Tooru — still, the mortal couldn’t help but feel a ping of offense at the realisation.

“You better come with us. Who knows when you might need to find your way around,” the feline-like Erinye continued with an ominous smirk, his words sounding terribly close to a threat.

Tooru sent him a wary frown, watching his expression turn into a floating cat grin that reminded him of Odysseus’.

“Shall we go, then?” the fury continued.

The owl turned a look full of hope to Tooru. Eventually, the mortal let out a defeated sigh.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

The grey haired owl let out a scream of joy and took off in the air, already pressing Tooru to follow.

* * *

The furies flying low around him, Charon by his side and Cerberus on his heels, Tooru walked through dusty fields where it was clear life was not welcome. The ground was dry, scarred with cracks that could swallow a man whole. Poplar trees were scattered around, scarce and white-barked, their branches like skeletons pointing an accusing finger at the mortal.  _ You do not belong here _ .

Like he cared. He was only passing by.

Among them, lost souls stood immobile and pale, the edges of their misty silhouettes swirling and blurred. Their faces bore no expression but a blank neutrality, as if they were waiting for something to breathe life back into them.

Tooru walked through the crowd of ghosts, scanning each face with both worry and hope battling inside of him, every time heartbroken and relieved not to find Hajime among them.

On his right, separated from him by a gap that had nothing to envy to Tartatus, a different landscape spread, even more desolate. Over there, the souls weren’t just waiting, motionless and lifeless — they were crying out their despair, tearing at their own flesh. Somehow, Tooru thought the stony faces around him were having a better time in death.

“What’s that place?” the mortal couldn’t help but ask, pointing at the dreadful part of the Underworld.

Bokuto — that was the owl fury’s name, the others being Kuroo and Tsukishima — followed his gaze. He flinched, his expression tainted with pain before it closed off completely.

“These are the Mourning fields,” Kuroo explained, his face just as gloomy as the other’s.

Beside him, even the severe blond fury averted his gaze from the place.

“It’s for people who wasted their lives on unrequited love,” he took over, his expression hard to read. Was it despise? Was it guilt?

Bokuto turned to Tooru again, landing down and folding his wings to walk beside him, a careful light in his eyes. “No chance your special someone is there, right?”

The mortal’s eyes reluctantly left the heartbreaking landscape to lock onto the fury’s golden gaze.

“Not even a chance,” he stated firmly, his heart pounding in his chest.

At least he had avoided Hajime such a fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this new chapter! See you next week for **chapter 3: Hades and Persephone**! Things are going to get a lot more difficult for Tooru...
> 
> Leave a comment and make a writer's day ♡  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	3. Hades and Persephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru has met Charon, the Erinyes, and Cerberus... But now comes the big game: the Ruler of the Dead and his Queen. Hades and Persephone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of drowning

When fences appeared in front of the little group, they were so far from the gates that they had long disappeared behind them, not even a point left on the skyline. A crowd — a tangible crowd, cheering, sounding alive — was gathered in a part of the Asphodel meadows where no tree remained. Fancy stands had been raised, adorned with pomegranate trees whose greens and reds contrasted with the black, polished stone that the seats were made of.

Without missing a beat, Tobio pointed at the couple sitting there, watching the match, designating Hades and Persephone. He disappeared to change into more appropriate clothes without saying another word.

Tooru stood still, studying the gods before he walked to them. On the left sat the one he supposed was Hades, draped in a long and dark chiton that glowed like obsidian under the moonlight. His face was stuck in a mildly bored expression, thick eyebrows furrowed in a slight frown and lips pursed into something close to a pout. There was a forked scepter casually leaning against his seat, symbol of his control over the Underworld, but the god didn’t pay any attention to it. Beside him, Persephone’s expression mirrored his lack of interest.

Even though in the realm of mortals people always referred to Persephone as the  _ Goddess _ of spring, the pink-haired deity sitting beside Hades was clearly male-presenting. It occurred to Tooru that Gods weren’t defined by the mortal rules, thus he didn’t think further about it. Dressed in red and earthy tones, Persephone stood straight, royal, a wreath of wheat on top of their head. There was something more vivid about Persephone’s face, a fire burning under the ashes that led Tooru to think they ruled instead of Hades who was content with simply being there. While Hades’ energy had more of the lazy contentment of a predator taking a nap, Persephone’s eyes were sharp and anchored into the present.

The mortal inhaled sharply, closing his eyes to ease the tension from his muscles. He stepped forward. As he walked to the two deities, curious gazes locked on him, following the dauntless living soul who had dared trespass. A whisper rose in the crowd on his trail but Tooru ignored the rumour, stopping only when he was in front of the rulers of the Underworld.

“My name is Oikawa Tooru, and I am here to claim back Iwaizumi Hajime’s life,” he declared, challenging, as he stared at the powerful beings he faced.

Hades’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He exchanged a look with his partner, disbelief written all over his face. When the both of them turned back to the human, they burst out laughing, loud and condescending, as if a child had just walked to them to teach them a lesson.

Wrath rose inside of the mortal, rage storming and mixing with humiliation at the way the Gods treated him, but he clenched his fists into balls and waited, not once averting his gaze. He wouldn’t give them the pleasure.

Eventually, Hades wiped a tear from the corners of his eyes, his lips spreading into a lazy and smug grin that Tooru dreamt about wiping off his face. At his side, Persephone gave him a mocking expression.

“So what? You think you’re the first one to come here and ask us to give you someone back? Come on, dude, you look more clever than that!”

Hades turned to them, the corner of his lips curving up, quivering under the new laugh he was repressing. “You sure about that?”

Tooru cleared his throat, keeping his assured stance. He tilted his chin upward, proud, and Persphone’s lips thinned into a barely contained grin.

“I came all the way here, don’t expect me to go back so easily,” the human warned, a threatening smile blooming on his lips.

Cerberus growled behind him, his breath lifting Tooru’s hair in his neck, but the mortal didn’t move.

“Besides,” he continued. “Hades is known as the Unseen one. Since I, a very alive mortal, can see you, I take it you were expecting me.”

In front of him, the God’s grin widened, more genuine, and he rested his chin on his palm.

“I’ll give you that, he’s a clever one,” Hades mocked, taking his dark eyes off the human. “And he’s got some guts.”

“Doesn’t he remind you of Daishou?” Persephone asked, continuing the conversation as if Tooru wasn’t standing in front of them.

The mortal coughed again and the two Gods jerked him a surprised look, as if they had already forgotten about him.

“Oh sorry, we were talking about Athena’s protégé. What do the legends call him, nowadays?”

It was Tooru who answered, a light exasperation piercing through his voice. “Odysseus. I travelled with him for a few months.”

Hades’ grin widened again. It was irritating, the way he looked at Tooru like he knew all there was to know about him; like there was some private joke between them that Tooru should understand but couldn’t get.

“How much do you care about Hajime?” the God asked.

At the same time, Persephone threw another question at the mortal. “How do you plan on going back to your world?”

Tooru’s eyes went from one god to the other, his brain working at full speed.

“I will complete any task if it means I can bring him back to the mortal world.  _ Alive and at my side _ ,” he added, insisting on the last words. He knew for sure the Gods would use his words against him if he didn’t pick them carefully.

Cerberus sighed again. A loud noise informed Tooru he dropped to the ground but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the Gods. The two deities exchanged a look, a silent conversation going on between them. Slowly, a smirk curled Hades’ mouth and something bright glimmered in Persephone’s eyes. They turned to the mortal as one, both of them looking ominously happy.

“You see this match?” Persephone started, gesturing to the scene happening behind them.

Tooru turned around, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the deity. His gaze slid on the huge dog that was staring at him, a bored look in his eyes, but what caught his attention was the game going on in the background.

He watched, hypnotized, and for the very first time he nearly forgot his objective and the reason for his presence in the Underworld. There were two teams playing each other, a net made out of a giant spider web separating the makeshift court in two halves — he didn’t want to know what kind of creature had made it. The twelve players were from mixed backgrounds, ranging from nymphs to mortals who had passed away years if not centuries ago. None of them happened to be Hajime, fortunately. Tooru didn’t know how he would have reacted if he had seen his lover over there, having fun while he had come all this way to try and rescue him from the afterlife.

From what he understood, the main rule was not to let the ball — oh Gods, was it  _ really _ a ball? He hoped so — drop to the ground. On the side of the court, sitting cross-legged on the bare ground, Tobio had his eyes locked on the ball, following its every move even though he wasn’t playing himself.

“Volleyball,” Tooru whispered absentmindedly.

He jumped when Persephone’s hand fell on his shoulder and the deity grinned at him. The fact they were slightly taller than him did nothing to lighten his distrust.

“So you’ve heard of it?” their husband said, an ounce of surprise in his voice, walking to the other side of the mortal.

With a God at each side, Tooru had the awful impression the situation was turning to his disadvantage. He took a step forward, walking toward Cerberus, and turned around to face the Gods once again.

“I’ve heard a few things about it. I know there will be a match against Olympus soon,” he explained carefully, watching his opponents.

Hades’ smile became smug. “In three days exactly, yes. Actually, we were looking for more players…”

The gears in Tooru’s brain clicked immediately and he stared at them in disbelief, his expression turning into pure suspicion as he spoke. “You want me to play against Olympus in three days?”

“We expect you to  _ win _ ,” Persephone corrected, something in their voice making it sound like a threat.

“Someone who is  _ alive _ can’t possibly play in this team.”

“Oh, you know, rules are meant to be changed,” Hades took over. “Besides, this matter could be easily taken care of—“

“I will play,” Tooru immediately cut the God off, silently praying he wasn’t bound to the place already.

He quickly pinched the soft skin of his wrist behind his back, as if it could assure him he was still truly himself.

“However, what if I do win?” the mortal continued. “I am not going to play in your team forever,” he insisted, challenging the Gods against all sense of survival.

Persephone cracked a mocking smile.

“Such confidence, mortal,” they prompted. “That’s probably all that humans have that is worth it.”

“If you win, you will be freed from this pact and will be able to regain your realm… Hajime will follow you,” Hades added as if it went without saying when Tooru opened his mouth to protest.

He closed it slowly, turning the words around in his mind and trying to find another meaning to them, to understand where the trap lay. When he couldn’t find anything shady, he nodded slowly, summing the situation up to make sure there wasn’t any misunderstanding.

“So all I have to do is to join a team and win against Olympus in three days from now?” he asked.

As if any of it could be possible, from learning a whole sport in such a short lapse of time to winning against the Gods themselves. Moreover, any fool knew better than to make a pact with any of them, Olympian or not.

“And when I win,” he continued with a confidence he felt nothing of, “I will be able to go back with Hajime, both of us alive, able, conscious, with all our memory, and sound of body and mind?”

He added the last conditions, just to be sure, and Persephone stifled a laugh.

“You will be able to go back and your life will continue without any change,” Hades confirmed. “And your lover will follow you to the doors.”

There was something in the way Hades insisted on the fact Hajime would follow him that Tooru didn’t like much, but he didn’t see any reason for it to be a bad thing.

“Just assure me he will be able to cross with me. To be alive with me again,” he nonetheless needed to say.

Hades’ smile widened. “This is up to you, Oikawa Tooru.”

On these words, he extended his hand and a parchment appeared in his palm with a  _ pop _ .

“All you need is your blood here,” he announced, pointing at a blank line at the very bottom of the document.

Tooru snatched the document from the god and read every word carefully. The thin paper moved with every breath Cerberus’ three heads took but he managed to go through it all in one go. Then, the mortal pulled his dagger out of his bag, pressed the tip against the back of his hand, where it wouldn’t hurt, and dropped his blood on the contract. As soon as it touched the paper, the parchment turned into smoke with another sonorous  _ pop _ .

The guardian dog sighed again, making a noise that nearly sounded like “Fool”, and Tooru swore internally.

“Will I be able to see him before the match?” he asked the Gods.

He knew this was a question he should have asked before signing. Yet, it had been so obvious and he had been so focused on the fact he had to  _ bring him back _ that the idea of being reunited with him before the end of his trial hadn’t even crossed Tooru’s mind. Now, he wondered how much this mistake would cost him.

Persephone let out a sigh and Hades arched a brow at his partner, an amused smile dancing on his lips.

“You want to grant him his wish?”

Persephone’s lips drew a thin line on their face and they studied Tooru through narrow eyes for a moment before answering.

“One condition,” they announced, their smile turning into something that sent chills down Tooru’s spine. “You have to let us hear your voice. We had it from Daish— from Odysseus that you have a wonderful singing voice,” the Goddess grinned.

Hades’ laughter resonated in the cavern when Tooru’s face turned a deep shade of red at the sight of the lyre that Persephone had materialized in their hand.

“You want me to play you a song?!”

His voice trembled with shame and anger, but he stepped forward and snatched the instrument from the deity’s grip, glaring daggers at the couple.

The last time he had played, all the sirens gathered around the boat had fled. It had saved the crew but had done serious damages to Tooru’s ego. The worst of it was that Hajime had laughed louder than the others, to the point he had nearly fallen overboard. Since that day, Tooru had refused to play or sing anything, even though he sometimes hummed to himself when there was nobody around to hear him. He liked to say Apollo had blessed him with beautiful looks and a beautiful voice, but alas the God had forgotten to gift him a real talent for music.

“Sing, mortal, and you will be able to see your other half once every day before the match. That makes four times, starting from today. We will allow you to see him before the final moment.”

There was something stubborn and childish in the way the couple treated Tooru, like he was an old friend they liked to tease, and he hated everything about it. Yet, every time the Gods opened their mouths, he wanted to prove them wrong, to show them he was worth more than what little they thought of him.

He tried the lyre once, brushing the cords, and a terrible sound came out of it, so high pitched that even the tortured souls on the other islands stopped shouting and Cerberus howled in unison with the distorted notes. Tooru felt the whole Underworld’s attention on him and he gritted his teeth, glaring at the instrument like it was the reason he was being judged, and not because he couldn’t play to save his life.

Well. He had to, to save Hajime’s.

He tried again, focused, keeping to a few notes only at a time, conjuring all the buried memories of the lessons he had taken as a child. Once he had three notes secured, he started repeating them again and again, until he was confident enough to do something else at the same time.

As soon as he started singing, the Underworld fell silent once again but the atmosphere was completely different, for it held its breath. The tortured and the torturers stopped to listen; in the Mourning fields, people wiped their tears away for an instant. Behind him, the match pulled to a stop, the ball bouncing on the ground. Charon stared, the furies gathered around him. Bokuto’s jaw dropped and even Kuroo lifted a brow in admiration and surprise.

The voice of the mortal filled the place.

Tooru sang a wistful, melancholic melody, the tale of a man lost at sea who fell overboard and swam until the sea swallowed him. Even though the man was aware that everything was going to end, even though he could feel his strength and all life slipping out of him, he kept on swimming, because there was someone he needed to get back to. The man was so determined, so stubbornly in love that when his lungs filled with water, Aphrodite herself begged Poseidon to let the man wash ashore. When he found the land again, the man had drowned, but Aphrodite allowed him to meet his lover one last time in a dream, to tell him his story so that the lover would find his body and would offer him proper funerals.

That was the tale Tooru was telling, the song so painfully real that a tear rolled down his cheek when he played the last note. It was moving because it was real, and it was real because it was the reason that had brought him to the Underworld in the first place.

Hajime shouldn’t have died so young. He wouldn’t have, hadn’t Odysseus made the God of the Seas upset. If Aphrodite herself had taken pity on the two mortals, he hoped their story would be enough for the Lord of the Dead and his Queen to grant them one last chance.

When he opened his eyes again, the joyful smiles on the Gods’ faces had disappeared, replaced with something that looked either like pity or empathy, he couldn’t tell.

“Four times, every day at the end of day,” Hades reminded him, his face for once serious, the expression contrasting with the grin he had been sporting so far. “And you have to win the match in order to be saved.”

“If you lose, you will join the Asphodel fields as a lost soul, and nobody will ever give you funerals. You will vanish,” Persephone added with a nod.

“I will win,” Tooru assured. He had no choice.

When he blinked, the space in front of him was empty and the two Gods nowhere to be found.

Hades, whose name meant the Unseen one. Of course.

Near Tooru, Cerberus let out a sigh that sounded like a complaint.

“You should have made it to Elysium,” the creature said.

Tooru wasn’t sure what he meant but he didn’t like the sound of it. He turned his back to the guardian and walked toward the field where people were playing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One word: foreshadowing.  
> I really love Matsuhana in this fic! Anyway, thanks for reading and see you next week for **chapter 4: A mismatched flock of losers**!


	4. A mismatched flock of losers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades and Persephone will bring Hajime back from the dead, but there's one condition: Tooru must defeat Olympus at volleyball, a sport he had never heard of before going to the Underworld. Okay, right, sure. First things first: he needs a team.

Near the court, Tobio was sitting out, his legs restlessly moving and his eyes focused on the game he was dying to join. He didn’t follow the ball, Tooru noted as he dropped to the ground beside him. His gaze was locked on a player, but the mortal couldn’t determine which one, everything was going too fast.

“Hey, Tobio-chan!” he called instead, earning a wary look from the ferryman when he reluctantly took his attention off the match. “Do you know how to play?”

Charon’s look darkened even more and his mouth twitched in an offended sulk. “Of course.”

Tooru took a few more seconds to take in the short and bright chiton the other was wearing, different from the previous plain darkness. It was puzzling seeing Charon, ferryman of the Underworld, in white and dark blue.

“Then why aren’t you over there?” the mortal asked again, gesturing vaguely toward the ongoing game.

Tobio’s frown deepened, wrinkling his forehead, and Tooru found himself trying hard not to mimic the ungraceful expression.

“They don’t want me on the team right now. They won’t let me play,” he continued, his hands clenching into tight fists.

Tooru’s eyes fell on the other again and he bit the inside of his cheek to fight the smile that was threatening to curve his lips. The idea of a plan sprouted in his mind, and he displayed his most innocent expression.

“And why’s that?”

“They think I can’t fit in. That I’m too selfish.”

A frown creased Tooru’s forehead as he tilted his head to one side. He let a smile creep slowly onto his lips, his eyes narrowing in a conspiratorial gaze.

“Don’t you want to prove them wrong?”

Tobio started. He turned toward Tooru, slowly, his slightly wide eyes tainted with hope and the same glimmer Tooru had seen on starving carnivores. Hunger. He stayed silent, waiting for Tooru to go on.

“We could make our own team. Defeat them. Be the ones to play against Olympus,” the mortal whispered, charming Charon the way he had seen Odysseus do with other people, his eyes sparkling with an ambition and a determination that weren’t feigned. “I’ll help you go there. I’ll find you a team, and in exchange I want you to teach me how to play.”

Charon flicked a quick look to the team on the field and nodded feverously.

“We need six players, and a place to practise,” he declared.

Tooru flashed a proud grin. “I already have three, and a dog to catch the ball,” he bragged, pointing at the giant creature still on his heels. “All we need is one more person.”

Tobio frowned again, focusing hard. The expression was still on his face when he sent Tooru an uncertain look. “I know one man, but I don’t know if he’ll listen to us.”

* * *

Two hours later — which made it around half past four in the afternoon, according to Tooru’s calculations —, the teammates-to-be met up in the middle of a desert part of the Asphodel meadows. It hadn’t taken much effort for Tooru to find recruits, but as soon as Charon spotted the blond fury being reluctantly dragged by his two winged companions, his face fell and his whole body stiffened.

He sent Tooru a dark glare that could probably have killed a man, but the mortal chose to ignore it and brushed it off with a confident smile.

Behind Tobio stood another person, tall and well built and unknown to Tooru so far. His short, dark hair and his big brown eyes made him look like some kind of nice teddy bear. When he noticed the ferryman’s humor, he put his hand on Tobio’s shoulder and offered him an empathetic smile that was much more genuine than Tooru’s.

“It’s just for a few matches,” he tried to comfort his friend, but judging by the other’s gloomy expression, it wasn’t a very effective thing to say. 

“There’s no way we can play in a real match,” Tsukishima countered, and Tobio’s already balled fist clenched tighter. “A selfish ferryman who can’t understand teamwork, a former mortal devoured by guilt, a bored fury who doesn’t have anything better to do, one that was brought here against his will, another longing one who needs a way out of his own head, and a mortal who has never touched a volleyball in his life. Even a guy as stupid as Apollo could tell this is bound to fail.”

His words fell upon the group like a death penalty, killing the formerly light mood until a laugh rose from among them. Everybody turned to Tooru, wide-eyed and obviously wondering whether the mortal had already lost his mind — it wouldn’t have been surprising, he had already spent some time in the Underworld, after all.

He took a few more seconds to catch his breath before he explained himself. As soon as he stopped laughing, his face turned into a cold smile and he glared down at the blond fury.

“It turns out I know Apollo very well, birdie,” (Tsukishima twitched at the nickname) “and as much as he can get on my nerves, I can assure you that he is far from being stupid, and he for sure is more ambitious than you.” Tooru continued, the square outline of the golden-haired God flashing behind his eyelids when he blinked, as real as if Apollo himself had been standing there. “If you tell him no, he will say yes until he can prove you wrong. He may seem childish, yes, but he also has impossibly high standards, and he’s stubborn. He’s not the God of divination for nothing, he knows what’s to come.”

He allowed himself a theatrical pause before he spoke again. “He helped me come down here in the first place, and I’m starting to think he knew volleyball would be involved. After all, haven’t you said Apollo recruits here, Tobio?” he finished, turning to Charon with a smug smirk and opening his arms to prove his point like a philosopher ending his argument in Athens.

“There’s no way one can learn how to play in such a short time,” Tsukishima opposed again, yet there was hesitation in his voice, followed by irritation, as if he too was beginning to wonder where the truth lay.

Tooru turned to him, his way too polite smile still plastered upon his face — the kind of smiles that were ominous in all circumstances, and that never failed to piss the raven Erinye off.

“Oh you think so? I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” the mortal purred, the barely concealed threat only reinforcing the similarity between himself and the God who had blessed him.

Nobody was there to restrain him. Nobody was there to tell him to cut it and to stop faking his feelings. Nobody was there to stop him from disguising the insufferable amount of pain that killed him slowly as glowing pride.

That was exactly the reason why he had stepped into the Underworld. He had lost his other half and he needed him back, because without Hajime by his side, Tooru couldn't be himself either.

Behind him, someone clapped their hands loudly, startling Tooru and bringing him back to the present situation. He turned around, blinking slowly, and his gaze found Tobio’s friend watching him.

“Alright. Guys, we have only three days to beat the current team, we should start warming up before it’s too late. I’m Sawamura Daichi, by the way, and I’m the one who taught Tobio how to play,” he introduced himself, nodding lightly.

The mortal gave him a once-over, a frown upon his face, and his mouth twisted into a pout. “Why did he say he wasn’t sure you’d accept playing with us?”

Sawamura twitched ostensibly, a sheepish smile settling on his lips.

“I have my reasons,” he eluded, and Tooru’s curiosity only grew bigger. Yet, he didn’t have time to question him further, as the makeshift team started bustling.

“Where are we going to find a ball?” Charon asked his friend, a concerned frown creasing his forehead.

Sawamura’s face turned into a worried expression when a loud noise resonated near them – a succession of _thuds_ followed by the sound of a heavy weight dropping to the ground. Cerberus flicked them a bored look, one of his heads dropping a ball the size of a lion skull that bounced to Tooru’s feet.

“What is he doing here?” Sawamura questioned as he took a careful step back.

Tooru shrugged. “He keeps following me around, I can’t get rid of him. At least he’s proving himself useful, I guess.”

* * *

The following hours were long and nerve-racking, as Tooru had to take in as much information as he could. Fortunately, his teammates seemed to have some skills up their sleeveless chitons, and soon Tooru found himself enjoying the new challenge. Volleyball wasn’t a difficult thing _per se_ , but it needed some time getting used to, and mostly it required being able to adapt to the other players around. Well, he also had to find a way to get a better control over the ball.

However, Oikawa Tooru was a natural when it came to social relationships. He learnt the basics in no time and it turned out he had some good aim. Probably another gift from Apollo.

The weight of the ball, the way it bounced off his fingertips and slammed against his palm, the accuracy, the need to read his surroundings and opponents… everything made Tooru’s heart race in his chest, and by the time they called it a day, he had nearly forgotten the reason for his presence in the Underworld. Only Tobio’s words brought reality back, and it punched the mortal right in the chest, knocking the air out of him.

“It’s nearly night time,” Charon announced matter-of-factly.

Bokuto’s body stiffened and he flicked Tooru a quick look. “Hades made a promise, right? You should go get some privacy somewhere.”

“We’re staying here,” Kuroo added, nodding at his friend’s words. “We’re gonna try and organise some stuff. You’ll find us here when you’re back, don’t worry.”

He hadn’t finished his speech that Tooru was already gone, walking toward a place he didn’t know anything about and a person he knew better than himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you excited to see Hajime in next chapter? Because I sure am! See you next week for **chapter 5: A bond strong enough to move Gods!** ♡  
> 


	5. A bond strong enough to move Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru made a pact with Hades and Persephone — he will be able to meet Hajime four times before the end of his trial. It's now time for the gods to keep their end of the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW: sea, drowning, past death**

_The sea was dark and the sky darker. A storm was raging, whipping Hajime’s face with every blow. He kept his body low, his nails dug into the soft wood of the bridge. Around him, everybody was shouting. Odysseus barked orders he couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter anyway. Poseidon was mad, and he wasn’t going to let them wash ashore just fine._

_Hajime’s eyes searched for the horizon one last time before the boat tipped over and the water swallowed him. As soon as his body hit the surface, a freezing cold ran through his veins, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He stared up, eyes wide open and burning with salt._

He was going to die.

_He was going to drown, and Tooru would never see him again, never find him again. They wouldn’t even be reunited in death, because Tooru would never find his corpse. Hajime would never be buried. He would never be at peace._

_Would he vanish? Would he stay around and be stuck in a state between life and death, with no hope of ever being saved?_

_Water forced its way through his lips, setting his body on fire, and one last wave of determination washed through Hajime, in one last fight for his life. He kicked the invisible hands pulling him down, his eyes on the faint ray of light that filtered through the water above him and he broke the surface, gasping for air in the fraction of second he was allowed to float._

_Another wave crashed, forcing him down again, but he resisted and pulled himself up, his will to live stronger with every black spot that bloomed before his eyes._

_A distant part of him could hear the crew shouting around him above the water, the sound of the sea, and the deep voice of the God that wished them all dead for a fault that only one of them had committed. He willed them all silent and focused on the tiny flame that flared into his chest, the only thing that mattered._

_He had to live. He had to fight. He had to get out of there and stay alive, because there was someone he had to see again._

_The sea swallowed him once more and Hajime let it pull him deeper. On the surface, the water fought like a mad horse, swirling and crashing, violent. However, once he was lower, only the current remained. Hajime pushed on his limbs, his jaws clenched, and swam under the surface toward a target he could only feel with an unwavering certainty. His vision went black but he kept swimming forward. Everything was cold, everything was trying to keep him back, but he couldn’t let them._

_His lungs gave up first and he opened his mouth against his will. Water flowed inside of him and burnt with every desperate cough._

_Hajime felt himself freezing, floating around without being able to move freely. Tooru’s voice called out for him in his mind, desperate._

_Hajime addressed one last prayer to the Gods, then he directed all his thoughts to his lover. He begged not for mercy but for forgiveness. Hajime couldn’t tell whether the warmth on his cheeks was from the sea or from the tears he imagined he was crying. Everything went dark. Everything calmed down._

_“I hate it when they drown,” he imagined a man’s voice saying, irritated._

_“Me too. A chiton takes so much time to dry!” another one said. He sounded younger, somehow, as young as a disembodied voice could sound._

_“Thanatos, Hermes, can you give us one second?” a third voice intervened._

_Hajime’s soul floated around for a long time until something pulled it down, as if he were bound by a string. He saw Tooru for a fleeting moment, as if in a dream, but when the man spoke his voice was different. It wasn’t his, and it took half a second for Hajime to realise the person in front of him wasn’t his Tooru._

_“I’m not your lover indeed,” not-Tooru said, a playful, nearly mocking smile on his lips. “I am the Goddess of Love.”_

_To which Hajime mouthed ‘Aphrodite’ in disbelief._

_“I look different to everyone, but it seems your mind won’t give up on Tooru.”_

_The Goddess laughed, a clear, raspy sound coming from the bottom of her throat that sounded foreign to Hajime’s ears, for it was not Tooru’s and the whole scene was puzzling. She eyed Hajime briefly, her grin broadening even more._

_“That’s all I wanted to know,” she continued after a silence. “I am pleased. I was right, you two really share a strong bond... Now get on your way, Hajime. I’ll allow you to see your lover one last time, in a dream. Tell him where you lie, so that he can find you.”_

* * *

After what seemed an eternity wandering in the Asphodel meadows — a very nerve-racking eternity —, the atmosphere changed around Tooru.

It started as a tickle in the back of his mind, a bare scrap against his soul, almost a caress. A blurry fog rose near him like a will o’ the wisp, getting thicker, slowly gaining matter, until Hajime was completely there in front of Tooru, glowing faintly in the dim light of the Underworld. He blinked several times, as if adjusting to the luminosity, and his eyes found his lover waiting for him.

As soon as he saw his face, Tooru took a step toward Hajime, falling into the dust when his leg gave out. He stared at his lost half as if afraid he would vanish again if he so much as blinked, flows of tears streaming down his cheeks and unable to say a word.

Shock and confusion written all over his face, Hajime took a brief second to take their surroundings in. When his gaze fell on Tooru again, he was glaring, a scowl distorting his features.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be alive!” Hajime shouted, his clenched fist shaking at his side.

A nervous laugh shook Tooru. There was no doubt that this was his Hajime, all grumpy and worried for him when _he_ was the one who had died. Tooru could barely believe his eyes. Every tear, every bruise, every bargain, every torment and every painful step taken… Hajime was worth all of them and so much more.

“I told you even death wouldn’t be enough for you to get rid of me,” Tooru joked through his tears, a trembling smile that for once was absolutely genuine on his lips. “Besides, I’m actually alive. I came here to bring you back, Iwa-chan.”

The other froze ostensibly at the nickname, not used to it anymore. It had been so many years since Tooru had stopped using it, since they had stopped being only friends.

Hajime’s face softened when he spoke again, even though it was clear violent emotions were battling under the surface.

“How did you get here, if you’re alive?”

“I walked in. It took me a long time to figure out how to do it, but Odysseus helped me.”

At the mention of the serpent’s name, Hajime tensed up but he didn’t say anything. Instead, his expression switched back to confusion and he watched the other carefully, an unreadable light in his eyes.

“What do you mean a long time? I’ve been dead for four days only.”

 _Four days?!_ Tooru’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help but jerk away, as if Hajime had just punched him. He stared, gaping like a fish out of water, emotions chasing each other on his face as he was trying to process the information, pain being the only constant. Four days. For Hajime it had been only four days.

Tooru swallowed audibly and forced a carefully studied smile on his face, struggling not to let the lump in his throat suffocate him.

“Four days without you feel like a very lonely eternity, Hajime,” he admitted, his voice breaking awkwardly on the other’s name. It was a half truth, but Hajime didn’t need to know the whole thing. Four days it’d be, then.

Tears were still beading in the corner of his eyes but Tooru’s expression was calmer when he stumbled to his feet with the fragility of a newborn fawn. “I will bring you back, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises,” Hajime warned with another scowl, but in his voice rang something that was close to longing, painful and sad, powerful enough that Tooru wanted to reach out to him. “Especially not in the Underworld.”

“I _promise_ I will bring you back with me,” the other insisted nonetheless, a fierce light dancing in his brown eyes. “I can’t stand living a life where you’re not there,” Tooru then stated matter-of-factly. “I have made a pact with Hades and Persephone. They gave me three days to fulfill a mission. I have to master a sport I knew nothing about a few hours ago, in order to defeat the elite team of Olympus with my own team made from scratch; a disparate mess of furies, dead people, and a ferryman. But you know what, Hajime? I know I will do it.”

His words were the ones of a mad man, but in his mouth, with such a calm and composed tone and the fire that roared in his eyes, Hajime knew it was the truth.

“Of course you will. I don’t know anyone who’s even one sixth as stubborn as you,” Hajime assured, a light grin playing at the corner of his lips.

They remained silent another moment, feets apart and almost literal death between them. Tooru was the first one to step closer to the other, hesitant and weak again. He curled his fingers nervously and reached out to brush Hajime’s arm, his gaze never leaving the other’s face, so much paler in death than it had been in life.

The instant he should have touched Hajime’s skin, something went completely wrong. Tooru’s hand went through the other as if he were made of smoke, and both of them stared in shock. A flicker of panic passed on Hajime’s face and he tried taking Tooru’s hand, only to find he was immaterial. Just a soul, without a body.

He turned a pained gaze at Tooru, but the mortal’s face was twisted with rage.

“You tricked me!” he yelled to the ceiling. “Hades, this isn’t fair!”

His fists curled into tight balls at his sides, the knuckles white. From the look on his face, Hajime couldn’t tell whether Tooru was going to burst into tears or to pick the nearest weapon he would find to take his revenge on the Gods.

To his utmost surprise, Tooru closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath to calm down his thinning nerves. Another noise echoed in the distance, sounding an awful lot like Persephone letting out an irritated sigh.

“There’s something else that bothers me,” Hajime prompted after a while, obviously trying to change topic and think about something else. The concern on his face did nothing to ease Tooru’s raging mind, but at least it helped him redirect his focus. “Tooru, are you hungry?”

The other took a few seconds to think about it, a frown creasing his forehead at the unexpected question. Actually, he was starving. The fast pace of the whole day had managed to keep his mortal needs at bay but the sheer fact of bringing them to his attention was enough for him to feel like he had been carrying the sky on his shoulders for too long. He was starving, he was exhausted, and all he wanted was to pull Hajime into a tight hug and never let go of him ever again, but even this he couldn’t have.

 _Soon, though_. Soon, he would have him back, and everything would be alright again.

“Have you brought anything edible with you?” Hajime insisted, worry piercing through his voice.

“Well, I had honeyed milk but I gave it to Tobio — I mean, Charon — as an obol when I arrived. Why? What’s wrong?”

The other’s pressing tone was starting to seriously get to Tooru. He didn’t need another issue to add on top of his ever-growing list.

Hajime let out an irritated noise and glared at their surroundings.

“You can’t eat anything from the Underworld,” he informed his boyfriend when his eyes eventually fell back on him.

He made a move as if to put his hand on Tooru’s shoulder but caught himself when he remembered he couldn’t touch him, and frustration added another layer to his already tormented expression.

“Listen to me, if anyone brings you food, refuse it. That’s how Persephone got trapped here. They ate pomegranates from the gardens. If you eat anything from the Underworld, you will be bound to this place and you will never be able to go back,” he explained in a hurry.

There was a metaphorical clock ticking above them and it suddenly seemed to pick up its pace.

“Find allies you can trust. I know you can do it,” Hajime added, flicking a concerned look at his hands. They were beginning to fade away. “I think my time’s over.”

Fortunately, Hajime missed the way Tooru winced at the familiar words. The mortal gathered himself quickly and waved his hand in front of the other’s eyes. When he was sure he had his full attention, he offered him a peaceful smile.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

It was a promise, another one. And he intended to keep all of them.

“Tooru?” Hajime faltered. “Thanks for coming for me.”

The mortal flashed a crooked grin but the other was already gone, turned back to mist. He didn’t know if his lover could still see him or hear him, but still Tooru spoke his last promise.

“Anytime, Hajime.”

He let the tears roll down his face again, not caring about anything anymore, and let his feet carry him to the place where he had trained with his new team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay! This was one of my favourite chapters, so I hope you like it!  
> See you next week for **chapter 6: Oh, to have the trickster God on his side**!


	6. Oh, to have the trickster God on his side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many problems for a mortal staying for too long in the Underworld, and Tooru is soon going to face one of them.

Living in the Underworld — emphasis on “living” — among a bunch of furies, gods and wandering souls turned out to have some major downsides, as Tooru soon found out. The most important one was that his companions didn’t share his very basic human needs. They could eat whatever they wanted without risking to be trapped there, and they could sleep anywhere without fearing for their lives. Actually, he wasn’t even sure that any of them had to sleep, and some of them no longer had a life to fear for.

Fortunately, Sawamura, being the one with the closest corporeal condition and thus the most empathy for the poor mortal, was considerate enough to offer Tooru a place to stay for the night. It was a worn out tent near the place where Tooru had first met the gods of the Underworld; it was old and it smelt like mouldy linen, but it was a roof over his head and a wall between him and the creatures of the Underworld, so Tooru gladly thanked the other man and waited for Morpheus to finally come to him.

Of course, the god had decided to be uncooperative.

Since he couldn’t seem to fall asleep, Sawamura stayed by Tooru’s side to entertain him, probably benefitting as much as Tooru from the company. With the mortal, he could pretend he was alive again, and Tooru had noticed that even the way Sawamura glowed had changed, more vivid than a few hours ago when they had first met.

Nonetheless, in spite of their casual conversations, there were some thoughts that refused to leave Tooru’s mind. Just to confirm his doubts, he slammed his hand on the other’s shoulder, laughing at a random joke he had already forgotten. His palm met a solid body, not different from his in the slightest.

Sawamura was tangible, material. Hajime was not, and it was most likely the Gods’ doing.

Tooru swallowed his wrath and kept on laughing, no trace of his internal troubles showing on his face. He kept his body language in check, displaying only the most lighthearted behaviour, and the wandering soul didn’t suspect a thing.

Behind the thin wall of the tent, Bokuto was pacing up and down, guarding the place like a dedicated soldier. He had taken a liking to the mortal, and he had naturally decided to stay with him. Tooru couldn’t tell whether it was because the fury found him entertaining or if he actually bore the hope of becoming his friend. Kuroo, on the other hand, definitely found the mortal interesting enough to stick around. The only reason why he had deserted was because Tsukishima refused to waste his precious time there. Tooru doubted he really had anything better to do, though.

Minutes passed, then hours, slowly ticking away. The conversations stopped, replaced by a comfortable silence as Tooru lay on his back in the tent, but no matter how much he willed his thoughts to nothingness or how many sheep he counted, Tooru didn’t manage to fall asleep. After a while, his stomach growled loudly, the only noise in the quiet area, and he let out a groan as he sat up, glaring at a corner of the tent.

Immediately, a silver-framed face appeared in the entrance, golden eyes staring inquisitively at Tooru.

“Oh, you mortals need to eat, right?” Bokuto said, his eyes widening in an eerie mix of fascination, surprise and realisation. “How long has it been?”

Tooru’s gaze glazed over. How long? He didn’t know. He didn’t really care. To Hajime, it had been only four days. To Tooru, it had been nearly one year since he had lost his other half. The only comfort he got out of this thought was that Hajime hadn’t suffered as much. The loss had dug a hole in Tooru’s chest that didn’t seem like it would ever heal, and he was glad Hajime didn’t have to go through the same pain.

It wouldn’t matter anymore in three days, though. He would have him back and all would be forgotten. The tears, the grief, the pain. He would win and it would be alright. They would be alright.

“Oh no I think he’s dying… Can a mortal die in the Underworld? Oh my Gods,  _ do something! _ ” Bokuto panicked, shaking Tooru and bringing him back to reality.

The mortal’s eyes focused on the other’s face, too close and teary-eyed, and he blinked in confusion. The frown that settled on his forehead didn’t do anything to reassure the worried fury.

“You really need to eat something,” Sawamura agreed, peering over Bokuto’s shoulder, concern written all over his face.

Damn, these two really were on the same wavelength… For some reason, it made Tooru’s guts twist ominously — or maybe it was hunger, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t.

In the blink of an eye, the Erinye disappeared without making a sound, only to come back a few seconds later, holding a handful of fruits on a silver plate.

“Hades didn’t see any problem with me taking these,” he informed, nearly forcing a red fruit down Tooru’s throat. “You need to eat something or you’ll pass out!”

“Pass away,” Sawamura mumbled gravely behind him.

A second passed before he realised what was happening.

“Stop!!” the wandering soul shouted, shoving the fury aside and slamming his hand on Tooru’s back to make him spit the few chunks he still had in his mouth.

Fortunately for the human, Bokuto, being a fury who barely knew anything about the mortals’ way of things, had tried to feed him the whole pomegranate in the same way we would have done with an apple.

“He can’t eat that or he’ll never be able to leave !” Sawamura screamed at Bokuto who retreated until his back hit the fabric of the tent, his eyes widening in a mix of shame and horror.

If not for the crushed fruit and the whole don’t-eat-or-you’ll-be-bound-to-the-place, Tooru would probably have died choking on the pomegranate without Sawamura’s intervention, anyway.

“Please tell me you haven’t swallowed anything,” the latter begged, his eyes searching Tooru’s for an answer, but the mortal was too busy coughing his lungs out for any word to slip through his lips.

For a guy who had been dead for Gods knew how long, Sawamura sure had a powerful punch.

Not far from them, Bokuto was freaking out, blaming himself and apologising over and over again, unaware of Tooru’s hand waving at him to calm down.

It took the mortal five minutes to be able to breathe normally again and at least twice that amount of time for the fury to eventually accept that Tooru wasn’t mad at him.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” the mortal yet declared once he was sure he had regained the use of his voice. “ _ Alone _ ,” he insisted when his companions made a move to follow him.

Sawamura frowned, about to protest, and beside him the fury dove into a dark train of thoughts. However, Tooru was too exhausted to stay around and add their own issues to his. He stepped out, trusting the former mortal to deal with the fury and cheer him up, and wandered off in the eternal stillness of the Underworld.

If it hadn’t been for the pain in his muscles and the way his eyelids kept dropping, Tooru would never have guessed it was night time. As he had already been informed, time passed differently in the Underworld, and yet there was no way to tell how fast or how slowly it flew.

He let his feet carry him around, his mind foggy and yet buzzing with thoughts, lost so deep that he didn’t hear the footsteps of the man who appeared at his side.

“It’s not really careful to walk alone at night in the Asphodels,” a voice pointed out, startling Tooru.

He swung a punch in its general direction but the other dodged effortlessly, rolling on the ground in his dusty white and golden chiton. When he looked up at the mortal again, he was wearing one of the most genuinely proud grins Tooru had ever seen on someone’s face.

“I have the feeling days aren’t any different than nights around here,” the mortal said carefully, watching the man in front of him.

Shorter than Tooru by at least one head and half, the God didn’t look like much in person. His black hair was spiked up, making him look a bit taller than he actually was. One strand denoted from the rest, dyed blond and falling over his face, nearly hiding the center of the jewel that crossed his forehead. Attached to the ornament, two black wings poked out of the God’s hair like a fancy kind of crown.

He waved his caduceus in front of Tooru’s face, grinning when he saw his confused look.

“Ah, you’re back,” the God mocked, reaching for the satchel that hung to his side.

Tooru noticed another pair of black wings attached to the God’s sandals, but he didn’t have time to think about them. The other pulled a bunch of grapes from his pouch and handed them over to the mortal.

The latter stiffened and looked the God up and down, frowning.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Tooru started, staring without making a move to take the food. “But I don’t trust you. No offense.”

The God burst out laughing but he still put the fruits in the mortal’s hand.

“Don’t worry, it’s not from the Underworld,” he assured, popping one into his mouth to prove so. “Besides, do you know who I am?”

Tooru didn’t falter, his expression measured and calculating.

“You’re Hermes. Not only the messenger of the Gods but also a renowned trickster and the God of thieves. So excuse my skepticism.”

Hermes let out another laugh, his eyes sparkling with malice.

“There are a lot of bets going on among the Gods, you know,” he prompted, and Tooru noted that he didn’t deny his barely veiled accusation. “Apollo isn’t allowed to pick a side, of course… But really, I can’t wait to see the outcome,” Hermes concluded with another malicious look.

He grinned again and turned on his heels to walk away without further ado. He had only taken a few steps when he stopped abruptly and looked over his shoulder, back at Tooru who was still considering him with distrust.

“Oh, by the way, Tooru… Aphrodite and I placed our bets on you, so we’d really appreciate it if you won the game!”

* * *

“So you mean Hermes came all the way here just to give you this?” Sawamura asked, pointing at the intact grapes in Tooru’s hand.

They were back under the tent, sitting in front of each other. Beside them, Bokuto poked at the fruits as if they were a wild beast and he was trying to determine its dangerosity.

“Yeah, even to me it sounds weird… He probably had some other business to attend around. Say, with Hades and Persephone,” Tooru hazarded, spitting the Gods’ names as if they were poisonous. “I don’t trust any of them,” he added promptly when Cerberus sighed outside.

The dog was sleeping in front of the entrance, and Tooru wasn’t sure whether he was spying on him or he had only decided that he really liked Tooru’s company.

“You should eat, though,” Sawamura insisted, taking one grape and crushing it under his teeth — a part of Tooru looked in fascination at that ghost behaving more and more like a human. “He didn’t lie, they’re not from the Underworld.” There was a pause, and then Sawamura spoke again. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Tooru let out a short laugh that was probably due to his increasing fatigue.

“I didn’t know dead people could eat food.”

Sawamura feigned to be offended, but soon his laugh echoed in the tent, joining Tooru’s and catching the attention of the nearby wandering souls. The rumor took over, carrying the sound of their mirth through the Underworld, propagating it among the creatures that lived there. They turned their attention to the mortal, hopeful and fascinated. They couldn’t recall the last time someone had genuinely laughed in the Underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave a kudo, drop a comment if you like this fic ♡
> 
> See you next week for **chapter 7: The raven leaves the unkindness**!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	7. The raven leaves the unkindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tooru snaps and the team has to adapt.

When Kuroo peered into the tent, he was immediately met with bright golden eyes filled with panic. Bokuto’s wings were all fluffed up, outstretched to the point they took most of the room, and under the pressure, tiny feathers had sprouted on the edges of the fury’s face, marking his jaws.

“He won’t wake up!” Bokuto whisper-yelled, turning to his friend as soon as he stepped in. “Do you think I killed him? What will Akaashi say if I broke another one?”

A quick look around informed Kuroo that Sawamura was nowhere to be found. He had probably fled or was running around seeking help, leaving only Bokuto with the mortal. It may not have been the wisest decision the man had ever taken.

“He’s the judge with the final word, one more soul will not change a thing to his job,” Tsukishima pointed out, following Kuroo into the tent. “Besides, I think you would have noticed if Thanatos had walked in.”

He flicked a disgusted look at Tooru’s silhouette on the ground, his mouth distorted in absolute disdain.

“Are you going to stay here all day long?” he grunted, hissing through his teeth. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a mortal. Don’t expect the Gods to go easy on you just because you played them some sappy song yesterday,” he continued, slightly kicking the mortal in the ribs so that Tooru would roll on his back. It wasn’t enough to wake him up, though. “You’re doing this for fame, aren’t you? To have people tell your story, get some place among the stars or some kind of this shit. It’s always like that with mortals. I’m sure you don’t even want the other back.”

Tooru’s eyes snapped open. The next thing Tsukishima knew, he was eating dirt, the mortal’s knee pressing into the small of his back and pinning him down. Tooru pulled on the base of the fury’s wing to lean closer, his breath warming the nape of Tsukishima’s neck. He clenched his hand tighter around the limb, fingers twisting the fragile down feathers, his grip not a threat but a promise of pain that Tooru intended to keep.

“One more word, and you’ll never fly again,” he hissed into the other’s ear, his voice slow and sugary sweet. It was cold; the blade of a sword pressing against his throat. “And I’ll make sure  _ this _ enters the legend.”

Beside them, Kuroo and Bokuto remained frozen, their eyes on the man they could barely recognize. They didn’t dare breathe, afraid that it would give the final push to the mortal’s wrath. Kuroo flicked a quick look at Tsukishima’s expression, already trying to find a way to de-escalate the situation, and in the other’s eyes he could only see fear and hatred.

“I’ve lost  _ everything _ and I’m trying to get it back,” Tooru continued, pulling a bit more on the wing to make his words clear. “Don’t you dare ever insult me again.”

On these words, he let go of Tsukishima with a push and looked down on him as the fury struggled back to his feet. Even though Tsukishima was taller, Tooru managed to make himself look scarier than the upset fury.

Eventually, a smile drew on Tsukishima’s lips, dry and vengeful.

“I’m done with you,” he simply declared before he left, his wings kept close to his back. “Good luck winning your game without a full team.”

Silence settled in the tent, heavy and tensed. The fury’s words fell on Tooru like ashes after an eruption, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, but perhaps it was for the better. If Tsukishima didn’t think Tooru wanted to win more than anything else, he didn’t have his place on the team.

“If any of you doubts me, you’re free to leave as well,” he added, looking at the remaining furies who were obviously torn between following their friend or staying there.

He would never be able to win on his own; he would never get Hajime back on his own, but Tooru was blinded by pain and pride. He meant his words, even though it was a foolish thing to say.

Kuroo was the first one to shrug it off, although his gaze followed Tsukishima’s silhouette as he took off among the poplar trees.

“No need to get so serious. We’ll help you get your guy back.”

“Looks like Tsukki won’t come back, though,” Bokuto pointed out, looking at the entrance with a concerned expression. “And I don’t think we’ll manage to talk him into playing with us… So that means we’re short on players…”

His face hadn’t regained its more normal appearance yet. Distress was still marking his features with down and feathers, and he quickly hid his talons behind his back.

Tooru let out a sigh and dropped to the ground, indifferent to the fury’s bestial appearance. He pinched the bridge of his nose, averting his gaze, and tried hard to contain the waves of panic that followed his outburst.

“I just— I’m willing to risk  _ everything _ to get Hajime back. I won’t let anyone suggest otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Kuroo said, crouching down in front of the mortal to slide the plate of grapes toward him. “Now eat up, get ready, and fix that bedhead. We’re far from being ready to play against Olympus and we need to complete the team.”

Tooru frowned and he took his hand off his face to look the fury up and down. A smirk crawled on his lips as he replied.

“Fix that bedhead? Bold words coming from you.”

When Sawamura entered the tent, Charon on his heels, Kuroo was laughing like nothing they had ever heard from him.

* * *

“Get lower on your knees!”

“Not bad, but your stance is off.”

“How did you do that?!”

“That was… not what I meant…”

“Is this seriously your first time playing?”

“You’re not supposed to receive with your face, you know.”

Tooru was so focused on the game that he didn’t notice the crowd that gathered around them as they trained. All he could think of was the ball and the way his body ached. He didn’t care, though. He gave it his all and even more. He jumped, he tossed, he spiked; he jumped again, again and again, slammed his palm on the ball until he couldn’t feel the burn anymore. A distant, quiet part of his mind hoped that Hajime could see him, that he was proud of him and cheering for him from the sidelines. The voice of reason didn’t prove him wrong, for once, and so Tooru got the ball up in the air again.

It turned out Kuroo, Sawamura and Bokuto were actually great teachers, and even in the short span of a few hours they managed to shape him into some kind of player. Only Tobio wasn’t as receptive nor as talkative as the others. His main communication skills dwelt in glares and curious looks sent to the mortal, but Tooru didn’t really mind. As long as the guy could help him win against Olympus, he wouldn’t care about how he did it — and Tobio seemed to have a solid reason to win as well.

It was only during the first break that Tooru noticed all the chattering souls on the edge of the field. Most of them looked excited, and most eyes were on him.

“They’re drawn to you, you know,” Sawamura explained beside him, startling Tooru a little. “You’re like a light in the darkness. You’re the most alive thing around.”

“Besides, the challenge is fun,” Kuroo added with a crooked grin, spreading his wings behind him to dry them from the sweat. “We rarely have so many exciting things happening in the Underworld.  _ Oh! _ ”

His expression switched from mocking to pleased and surprised when he spotted someone in the crowd. Immediately, Kuroo quickly excused himself to join a bored-looking guy with half dyed hair — he looked like he had been a mortal years ago.

The two of them chatted a little, standing next to each other with a familiar proximity. The smaller one’s face creased into a frown when the fury pointed at his new mortal friend, and eventually Kuroo dragged the other toward Tooru.

“This is Kenma. He defeated the Sphinx but fell off a cliff like two days later and ended up here—“

“You don’t have to say this every time,” Kenma immediately cut him off.

His low voice sounded like a lullaby to Tooru’s ears — literally. His eyelids grew heavy and he had the sudden urge to lay on the ground and take a nap right there.

He shook himself awake and shot a questioning look at Kenma who sighed in return.

“Yes, I’m a son of Hypnos.”

“Was,” Kuroo corrected him with a sly grin that earned him a dark look.

“Still am. I always have this effect on other mortals,” Kenma continued, turning to Tooru for a fleeting moment before he averted his gaze again.

He made it sound like an apology, but Tooru didn’t really understand what he was apologizing for. Sure, the guy was a demigod, he had some magical abilities, but he couldn’t control them, so what was the point?

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on sticking around for too long,” Tooru smiled anyway. “So, are you… do you happen to play? We’re lacking one player at least—“

Kenma had a fight or flight movement that shut Tooru up immediately.

“I… I wouldn’t be of any help in your team. You already have a setter,” he said, pointing at Tobio who turned to him, his mouth full of freshly baked bread which smelt divine but that Tooru wasn’t allowed anywhere near. “And I think you could have been a good one too…”

Kuroo nodded, serious. “Your serves are impressive, though. I think you should work on them, I’ve heard Olympus isn’t that good at receiving. Which means… we’ll crush them.”

The fury grinned again, wicked and fierce and confident, and Tooru couldn’t help but mirror the expression.

“Of course we will.”

They stared at each other, high on hope and determination, and beside them the demigod stirred nervously.

“So, Kenma, what did you want?” Bokuto intervened, much to the other’s relief, his head poking out from behind Kuroo.

The demigod hesitated, glancing at Charon like he was considering reversing his decision. “I thought I could teach you some tricks. Like dumps. You could use them.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened in surprise for a brief second and his grin turned into a teasing smirk.

“Who would have thought I’d ever see the day when Kenma exercises on his own will.”

“You’re a sore loser and I don’t want you around when you’re like that,” the son of Hypnos opposed, glaring at his friend.

The fury ignored his declaration and went on.

“You can teach Charon later. What about we recruit some people for a friendly match first? It’d be good practice.”

Immediately, Bokuto’s face lit up and a cheerful howl left his lips, catching the attention of their whole attendance.

* * *

Matches followed each other without anyone taking more than a few minutes break. Even when all the wandering souls had left, Cerberus took place on the other side of the net, catching the ball and making it bounce on his snouts so that the makeshift team could keep on playing.

At the end of the day, two strangers had shown interest in the game and wanted to join in: a loud and quite energetic guy named Tanaka, and surprisingly enough, a quiet bloke as large as a door who didn’t talk much and was apparently called Aone. That meant they now had a full team and even one extra player, to their greatest relief.

Tsukishima didn’t show up again, and Tooru’s nerves were thankful he didn’t. He already had enough information to assimilate without having to focus on watching his back at the same time.

Night came, not different from day in the Underworld, and Tooru’s whole body ached as he lay down in the tent, alone and his eyes closed tight.

“You look awful,” Hajime’s voice greeted him, but he could hear the fond smile in his tone without needing to look at him.

“I never look awful,” Tooru retorted on instinct, sitting up to look at his boyfriend. “Besides, you can talk. I’ve never seen you so pale,” he continued, his expression turning into a sulking one.

A sad smile spread on Hajime’s lips as he crouched down in front of the other. “Yeah, side effect of being dead, I guess.”

He reached out for Tooru’s hand and passed right through him, just as he had expected. It didn’t prevent his stomach from dropping when his hopes were crushed again.

Absent-mindedly, Tooru placed his palm over Hajime’s hand on the ground, just like he would have done had he been able to actually touch him. He kept it there, faking the contact until his brain was tricked and it felt like Hajime’s fingers were actually there, a warm layer of air under his palm. He moved like he was taking his lover’s hand to intertwine their fingers, like he had used to, and Hajime played along, following his gestures.

“How do you spend your days?” Tooru eventually asked, breaking the silence they both had started to fear.

They couldn’t let it settle, linger for too long. They didn’t have enough time to spend together to allow themselves such a luxury as comfortable silences.

Hajime’s expression twisted into a grimace and he looked down at their hands, avoiding Tooru’s gaze.

“I don’t… Not really. It’s more like a pitch of darkness… A prison or a dream where I can’t do nor feel anything. Like being under the surface and only getting to breathe when I’m summoned here.”

A sad smile played on his lips, reading “ _ And I’d know what it’s like _ .”

“It’s gonna be over soon,” Tooru’s voice claimed, strong and clear, starting Hajime a little. “I’ll get you back, Hajime. I told you. I will. Nobody will keep you from me.”

“Beware of hybris, Tooru. You know how prideful people end.”

Tooru frowned at him like he was mad. “It’s not hybris. I’m not showing off, Hajime. I mean it.”

“You’re defying the Gods.”

“I’m not going against their rules. I’m playing by them. It’s only fair I believe in myself so that I can succeed,” he countered, and even though it was nearly the same thing, to them, it was the truth.

Hajime let out a weary sigh — this was a fight he couldn’t win. When he looked back at Tooru, Hajime’s gaze was painfully intense, tinted with a concern that the mortal wished he could wipe away.

“As long as you don’t claim yourself better than them, it should be alright,” he eventually conceded.

Tooru gave him one of these crooked smiles that Hajime secretly hated, for it was genuine but painful to watch.

“You know I wouldn’t,” he said.

And of course it was the truth, because since he already didn’t see himself worthy as a mortal, even his pride couldn’t make Tooru the equal of a God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still there after 7 chapters, THANK YOU! (Also, Tsukki fans, I'm sorry xD Please stick around!)  
> See you next week for **chapter 8: The kid who flew too close to the Sun and other stories of the past**
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	8. The kid who flew too close to the Sun and other stories of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past unfolds and Tooru learns more about some of his companions.

Once they were sure that Hajime had disappeared and Tooru was alone again, Sawamura and Bokuto entered the tent. The mortal didn’t move, neither did he glance at them, and the two residents of the Underworld exchanged a concerned gaze. They sat down to Tooru’s sides in silence, surrounding him and showing him they were there if needed. The day had been long but they had learnt a lot of things about each other, and somehow having to work together as a team had helped them grow closer in such a short lapse of time.

“You okay?” Bokuto asked after a while, bending forward to search Tooru’s face for any trace of sadness.

What he met instead was flaming determination, fierce and roaring, burning everything it touched. It shone so bright that Bokuto backed off.

“I can do this,” Tooru replied, looking up to the others. “ _We_ can do this.”

His words acted as a sparkle, breathing hope and confidence into the others. Bokuto offered him the biggest grin, his feathers and his chest puffed up, and Sawamura slapped his hand on Tooru’s back.

“We’ll get your guy back,” he assured with an intensity that left no place to failure.

He hadn’t finished his sentence that the fabric closing the entrance flapped open on a familiar face. Frozen on the spot, Tobio stared at the others, half in and half out, obviously facing a fight or flight situation. It was the first time he stepped into the tent on his own initiative, and he for sure hadn’t expected to find another soul and a fury in Tooru’s company.

The mortal studied him briefly, then he flashed his most welcoming smile and pointed his chin toward the plate in front of him. “Come in, come in! There’s still grape left if you want.”

Charon took the bait, all the pressure relieved from his shoulders, and sat in front of the little group. Of course, nobody touched the fruits. They were Tooru’s only way of survival in the Underworld; depriving him from his only source of food would be fatal.

The conversation went on without much thoughts being put into it, Tobio listening more than he was participating. They talked about daily life in the Underworld and Bokuto couldn’t help but mention Akaashi, the judge of the dead that he had been missing for days. Tooru didn’t need to ask to know that the two shared more than sheer admiration. Their bond was stronger, but he couldn’t tell to what extent.

Sawamura dropped some information, reluctant at first but soon finding himself opening up to the others. A shadow spread on his face when he talked about his past life and eventually shared his main regret. There was a man, he told them, that lingered in the Mourning Fields because of him — because Sawamura hadn’t found the strength in himself to love him the way the other man had seen him.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Tooru replied with a deep frown creasing his forehead. “You couldn’t have forced yourself to love him.”

“He died shortly after he confessed to me,” the other countered, looking in the distance, his face turned in the general direction of the fields. “If he had lived longer, if we had been able to meet again, it may have been different.”

It was Tobio’s voice that broke the tense silence that settled after.

“What happened?” he asked, his eyes shining a bit warmer than usual.

“He was imprisoned by the king with his adoptive son. The kid died when they tried to escape, and he followed soon after. It was one loss too much for his heart.”

Silence fell upon the group once more and when Tooru glanced at Tobio, all he saw was an intense expression almost fully concealed by swirling shadows. Bokuto remained eerily silent beside them.

The wind rose outside the tent, blowing the entrance open. One of Cerberus’ snouts dropped to the ground; his hazel eyes focused on Tooru, sending shivers down his spine.

“Don’t you have a dog house somewhere?” the human couldn’t help but say, an audible edge to his voice. This dog sure was skilled at getting under his skin, and the fact he kept following Tooru around didn’t help making the situation more bearable.

“Such a waste of potential,” the dog sighed, staring straight into Tooru’s soul. “Elysium had its gates open for you.”

He blew another sigh that nearly made the fabric of the tent fly away, his putrid breath filling the place and sticking Tooru’s hair back on his skull.

The mortal closed his eyelids tight and clenched his fists and jaw.

“Can someone do me a favour and take him out for a walk before I do something _very_ stupid?” he begged, his voice getting higher by an octave.

At his sides, Bokuto and Sawamura exchanged an alarmed glance and jumped to their feet.

“Hey doggo, wanna play fetch?” the owl-fury offered, pretending to be holding a ball in his fist and shaking it in front of the guardian’s closest face.

“I’ve heard a group of people are going to make a break for it tonight,” the wandering soul whispered to his companion in a conspirative tone.

Cerberus’ ears stirred on his skull and he sat up, his three heads looking in a different direction, ears like radars and truffles sniffing the air.

In the distance, a cat meowed, and Cerberus disappeared in a flash of fur and saliva, followed by a concerned fury and a distressed ex-mortal.

As soon as they were far enough for Cerberus’ footsteps to be a vague thunder-like noise only, Tooru let out a relieved sigh and dropped onto his back, massaging his temples. It took him several minutes to remember that Tobio was still there with him.

Carefully, the mortal opened one eye. In front of him, Tobio was staring at the ground, apparently in a deep silent conversation with a dust bunny. Judging by the frown on his face and the thin line that his lips drew, the dust bunny was winning the argument.

Tooru propped himself up on his elbow and as planned, his shift of position caught the other’s attention.

“Are you worried about the match against Olympus?” the mortal started, watching the other with an intensity he was obviously not used to.

Tobio’s hand clenched on his chiton and he lifted a dark gaze to meet Tooru’s. “We have no choice but to win.”

Tooru nodded. “I’m glad we agree.”

He studied the other a moment longer, watching as he fell into silence one more time. Eventually, the mortal was the one to speak again, frowning slightly.

“There’s a reason you absolutely need to win as well, isn’t it? What is it? What’s your motive?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

The ferryman straightened up, lifting his chin in a proud move that was no stranger to Tooru.

“There’s someone you want back… And so do I,” Tobio admitted, his face twitching painfully.

Tooru waited a few seconds for him to elaborate but of course Charon didn’t. Having a conversation with him was like pulling a carriage up a mountain: every step was harder to take than the previous one, and one tiny mistake meant risking to slide several meters back.

“What happened to them?”

Tobio’s eyes glazed over again in an unreadable expression that somehow reminded Tooru of Sawamura’s guilt. “He made it to Elysium,” was all that Tobio declared.

Elysium, Elysium, it was always about that place.

“Ah,” Tooru replied, as if he knew what that meant. “And winning the match would bring him back?”

“It wouldn’t,” Tobio cut him off, dry and sharp, earning himself a glare from the other, a mix of both offense and incomprehension. “He chose to reincarnate, and I’ve heard he’s been blessed by Apollo himself. If the God recruits me, that means I have a chance to see Hinata again.”

“Well. We can’t afford to lose, anyway,” Tooru concluded, staring at the other long after they were done with the conversation.

Everything about Tobio’s plan was so uncertain that it made Tooru’s heart clench in his chest. He was the one who had come all the way down to the Underworld in order to bring his lover back to life, but somehow it felt easier and much more achievable than the other’s own path. It shouldn’t have made him feel better either, but a selfish part of Tooru was glad that his story wasn’t the most tragic one. Or more specifically, he couldn’t see a scenario in which it could be.

* * *

Just like the day before, Kuroo went to the tent to wake Tooru up. A smirk bloomed on his lips when he found Sawamura there, his back to the entrance, watching over the snoring mortal.

“Nostalgic, aren’t you?” he mocked, crouching beside the soul and following his gaze.

The other didn’t look away from Tooru, a short sigh escaping his lips.

“Not quite… He came to the Underworld to bring his lover back to life… I’m kinda jealous, to be honest,” Sawamura laughed joylessly. “I wish I were that brave.”

The Erinye considered him a moment: that wistful soul, devoured by guilt from another life. He reminded him of Charon, somehow, except Sawamura was more obvious about his feelings.

“That Suga guy in the Mourning fields—,” the fury started, and Sawamura eyed him at the mention of the name.

Bokuto had told Kuroo about the story when he was done with Cerberus, and of course they had had to investigate the case, curious as they were.

“Koushi,” Sawamura corrected him.

“Yeah, him. Would you like me to deliver him a message? That won’t change a thing, he’ll stay there forever, that’s how the judges decided it, but it may ease his pain at least,” Kuroo offered, his thoughts drifting away to the real topic he wanted to bring up but that was too silly to be worth putting words on.

Immediately, Sawamura’s eyes lit up with hope, a faint glimmer of repressed excitement shining in the depths of his warm irises.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, and to Kuroo’s surprise there wasn’t any distrust, only a genuine question.

He shrugged dismissively, darting his eyes away from the former mortal. “You don’t look like a bad guy, I’m sure your friend wasn’t meant to end over there.”

He wouldn’t tell him that he had gotten curious about him. Kuroo wouldn’t tell him that what he really wanted was to ease _Sawamura_ ’s pain, because he had been around long enough to stare at the wandering soul and see his gaze darken every time the wind bore his past friend’s sobs to his ears.

“Do you really think it’d help him?” the other asked the fury again, his eyes glancing back to Tooru’s sleepy form.

“You won’t know until you try,” Kuroo shrugged.

On these words, he stood up and approached the still alive mortal, shaking him awake.

“Oi, sleepyhead. The match is tomorrow so you better not waste time oversleeping.”

As soon as his hand touched Tooru’s shoulder, the latter jolted awake, throwing the first thing he found to the Erinye’s head. Kuroo dodged the satchel effortlessly, staring unimpressed at the mortal.

“That’s how you treat your friends?”

Tooru narrowed his eyes, stifling a yawn.

“My friends usually don’t have wings to slap me in the face with. You think I didn’t notice you did that on purpose during yesterday’s practise?!”

The fury let out a loud laugh, the biggest shit-eating grin Tooru had ever seen settling on his face when he looked down again.

“You served right in the back of my head! You deserved it!”

The mortal groaned unintelligibly, but it sounded an awful lot like a disguised threat, and Kuroo’s laugh echoed tenfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this ♡  
> Next week, **chapter 9: Prometheus rises**!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	9. Prometheus rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fateful moment has arrived and it's time for Tooru's team to face the Asphodels and win their ticket to Olympus.

“Hey, Sawamura,” Tooru prompted during the very first break they allowed themselves. They were in the middle of practise, and all they could hope for was that they had become strong enough to overthrow the regular team and win their ticket to Elysium.

The other came closer, surprise and questions popping in his eyes.

“What exactly is Elysium?” Tooru asked, glancing quickly at the three-headed dog whose ears stirred in his direction.

Sawamura’s eyes filled with sadness when he replied.

“You’re wondering why Cerberus keeps harassing you about this, right?”

“Sort of...” Tooru trailed off.

He let his gaze wander toward Tobio, sliding over him fast enough for Sawamura not to notice.

“It’s the place where people who were worthy of the Gods’ attention go, basically. Like heroes, for instance. They have a garden and everything one could dream of to spend eternity. They also have the opportunity to be reborn if they want to.”

“So it’s the Underworld for the elite?” Tooru summed up, and the other shook his head in approbation.

Cerberus’ eyes reflected the flames when the mortal met his gaze again. They glinted in the dark, threatening and unnaturally clever.

Kuroo whistled, bringing the players’ attention back to him, and they gathered around the one who had naturally become their captain at some point down the line.

“So, guys, today’s the first big day,” the fury announced, his voice solemn, imposing silence.

The team had been warming up all morning, practising with volunteer souls in short matches, but the tension of the incoming one was heavy on their shoulders.

“The next match will be us against the Asphodel team. They’re experienced players, they’ve been playing together for longer than three days—“ He paused to glare at Tanaka’s interruption and waited for him to calm down. “But I still think we’ve got a chance.”

“Let’s crush those guys!” the other one declared again, his confident grin only widening when Tooru and Tobio’s eyes fell on him, filled with the same determination.

The mortal took a second to look at each face around him, taking in their faith in their makeshift team and their will to bring it to victory. He was genuinely grateful to have them by his side.

“Are you all ready to kick ass and defeat Olympus?” he eventually shouted, stepping forward.

“We’re gonna win this!” Bokuto yelled back, raising his fist into the air.

“And the next one!” Tanaka added, mirroring his gesture.

Beside him, Tobio sent a fierce look to Tooru.

When the mortal turned to the self-proclaimed captain again, Kuroo was frowning, as if something was bothering him. His mouth turned into a frustrated pout and he glanced back at Tooru, upset.

“We need a name for our team,” he said, and Bokuto agreed a bit too vehemently.

The whole team stared at each other, some puzzled, some silent.

“Chicken wings,” Bokuto offered out of the blue when nobody dared to speak for too long.

Kuroo immediately lost all of his seriousness, wheezing and nearly rolling on the ground, soon joined by Tanaka who was straight up crying tears of laughter. Tobio sent them a confused look and Tooru couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“What about Underworld?” Charon offered, keeping it simple.

The suggestion immediately brought a smile upon Sawamura’s face and he had to turn his back on Charon not to laugh directly at his face.

“Oh man, good thing you didn’t name Cerberus,” Kuroo snickered.

“He would have called him Dog,” Tooru added.

A wave of almost hysterical mirth brutally washed over him and he found himself laughing out loud, nudging the fury in the ribs, Bokuto toppling over him and nearly making the trio lose balance. Kuroo caught himself at the last minute, leaning against Sawamura who turned an indulgent gaze to him.

It occurred to Tooru he had forgotten the sound of his own laugh, and he immediately fell silent again. It had been months since the last time he had actually been lighthearted and had allowed himself to relax like that. Nearly eight months, actually, but only a week in the Underworld.

He glanced around, looking at the creatures that had gathered around him, that had agreed to help him. A cursed ferryman, a man with a deep guilt within him, a fury who actually loved being around people, a fury who craved joy and affection and missed someone, a man who was only in for the challenge but had managed to make himself invaluable to the team, and… his gaze fell on Aone, stoic as always, who had barely shown any emotion since he had joined them. He was a formidable asset, but he was the quiet type, even worse than Tobio himself.

Yet, he was the one whose voice rose when everybody calmed down.

“Prometheus,” Aone offered, looking directly at Tooru.

A light glowed in Kuroo’s eyes and a smug expression settled on his face.

“He stole fire from the Gods and gave it to the humans,” Aone explained, unbothered by Bokuto’s shocked expression and Tanaka’s surprised whispers to an uninterested Tobio.

Prometheus was the one who had been good to mortals from the very beginning, creating them, blessing them with knowledge, to the point Zeus had punished him for all the liberties taken.

“Now that would be an interesting team name,” the mortal agreed, a ferocious smile spreading on his lips.

“How many votes for Prometheus?” Kuroo called, grinning like a cat when everybody lifted their hand. “Well then… to Prometheus!” he shouted, staring at the ceiling, a challenging light in his eyes.

Shaped from clay and blessed with fire… Mortals were tough, and they were fierce, and all of what they were they owed the Titan. Tooru thought it was a fitting name for such a team as theirs. He could feel the flame burning inside of him, and he would do anything it would take to get Hajime back.

“Let’s show them what we’re made of,” he declared faithfully.

Tooru squeezed Kuroo’s shoulder on his way to the court and the mad grin on their faces spread among the team.

* * *

The Asphodel fields had changed in the time of a few days only, and the scarce stands where the Gods had been resting were now a brand new, shiny work of architecture. Light caught in the obsidian seats that circled the court like an amphitheater, pale-leaved pomegranate trees sprouting between the rows.

On the side of the net, parallel to the court, stood two fancier grandstands nested into the regular ones, their roofs covered with a dark cloth the colour of the night. In one of them, lying down on lounge chairs, Hades and Persephone were commenting on their regular team that was warming up on a side of the court.

In the other grandstands stood three other people, and Tooru already knew two of them.

On the far right, sitting cross-legged on a chair, Hermes was sporting an excited smile. He was only half-facing the court, turned toward his friend whom he was chatting enthusiastically with. The other man was sitting in a golden throne engraved with a sun that glowed like a crown above his golden-haired head. His legs stretched in front of him, Apollo followed his friend’s comments with the fierce grin of a man who was going to watch an entertaining battle. As soon as he spotted Tooru watching him, a pleased smile replaced his warrior-like expression. His eyes followed the mortal as he stepped on the battlefield, bright and proud.

“This sure is gonna be exciting,” Hades prompted from the other side of the cloth wall, pulling it back and blocking it with a pin.

“What’s the name of the challengers?” Minos asked out of the blue, manifesting his presence for the first time in forever.

As he spoke, his blue eyes never left the newcomers’ team, studying the mismatched mess of players. At Hades’ side, Persephone frowned slightly when they noticed two of the Erinyes among their ranks.

“Prometheus,” Hermes answered, grinning wildly and unbothered by the gloomy looks the Gods of the Underworld sent him. “These guys sure have some guts,” he added with a contagious laugh.

“Anyway,” Hades started again, this time sounding a bit more irritated by the challenging team’s provocation — not that he cared that much, actually, not even he had a place in Olympus, and he probably was the God who less resented the Titan for his so-called betrayal. “Minos, are you gonna be the referee for the match, this time?” he asked, his eyes locking with the other’s. “I don’t want you to be biased.”

The judge stiffened noticeably, but he nodded anyway, wise enough not to reply to the unconcealed accusation. “Apollo is there to make sure everything is fair,” Minos countered, quickly glancing at the God of the Sun beside him. “And anyone can challenge our decisions.”

“Don’t worry,” Apollo agreed, flashing Hades a toothy smile that hardly reached his eyes. “It’s gonna be interesting.”

“Else you wouldn’t be here,” the God of the Underworld added. His eyes lingered on Apollo’s face for one more second.

For a God like Apollo to make it all the way down to Hades’ realm, that could only mean one thing: the match opposing Prometheus to the Asphodels was worth the deplacement. For the first time in forever — and Hades for sure knew the meaning of that word — something interesting was happening. Somehow, he found himself hoping that the mortal would win the round. After all, even Charon and two Erinyes had sided with him.

* * *

Right when the match was about to start, Minos’ eyes quickly scanned the crowd. He had sensed a familiar presence and as soon as he spotted him, he motioned for Tsukishima to join him near the court.

“What are Kuroo and Bokuto doing over there?” he asked the Erinye under his breath, their backs to the assembly of Gods and their eyes on the two winged figures.

Akaashi did his best not to look at the owl fury. Not to  _ stare _ . He knew Bokuto’s full attention was on him without even having to raise his gaze. It was something he was used to, but with Hades and Persephone watching and several Olympians visiting, he couldn’t let anything show on his face. Hades already knew too much anyway.

“They decided to play on a whim”, Tsukishima replied with an obviously annoyed expression.

He flicked the other two a disgusted look and ignored the way Kuroo’s smirk turned into a disappointed pout at his sight.

“What about Charon?”

If it was even possible, Tsukishima’s expression darkened further, to the point he looked scarier than Thanatos himself.

“The mortal recruited him when the Asphodels refused to let Charon play with them. He jumped on the first opportunity he could.”

Akaashi let out a desperate sigh and eyed the two teams. On his right was a well functioning team of people used to play together, who had been training for a day like this for all of their death. On his left was a bunch of kids he had unfortunately left unwatched for too long and who had managed to get themselves into something way bigger than they could manage. It was clear they didn’t stand a chance.

Golden eyes found his, sparkling with joy and so intense that for a split second he forgot how to breathe.

Somehow, Minos found himself wanting the rookies to win, to prove themselves to be more than everyone expected of them.

His hand rose in the air and on his signal the match began.

* * *

The ball flew in the air from one side to the other, avoiding the ground by the sheer will of the players on each team. Tooru was there, so focused that he could probably not hear the crowd cheering for Prometheus from the stands. It had taken him only a few points to win the public’s heart.

To everybody’s surprise, the new challengers were actually good. They barely had any technique but they made it work against the Asphodels. Their unpredictability was probably their biggest strength, along with their spirit. Even from the stands, the crowd could feel the determination radiating from them, as if their lives were on the line.

Well, it was almost the case.

In the crowd, a woman was watching the match, her serious face framed with dark blond hair. She had one of her arms tucked behind her seat, and her lips were pressed in a thoughtful grimace.

“How do you like it?” her voice rose, addressing the man sitting beside her.

Hajime didn’t even flinch when he heard it, neither did he glance at the woman. All he could see was Tooru, anyway.

Tooru on the court, and not-Tooru watching him in the seat next to him.

“It’s not very lady-like of you to sit like this,” he eluded, his peripheral vision enough to tell him Aphrodite was slouching further into her seat.

“Who cares? Nobody can see me but you and I don’t even look like a woman to you anyway!” she retorted. For the first time, Hajime noted the amused tone of her voice, almost rebellious. He would never have imagined Aphrodite to be such a free spirit.

“Anyway,” the Goddess repeated. “That’s not what I meant. Your boyfriend, over there, what do you think of his performance so far?”

Hajime forgot about Aphrodite to focus on the match again. It was Tooru’s turn to serve, and if anything, his smile spoke volumes on his degree of entertainment. Yet, there was something about him — the stiffness of his shoulders, maybe? — that reminded Hajime his life was on the line. The other players were smiling like mad men even though some of them were panting like they were about to take their last breath.

“I know Tooru will make it,” Hajime eventually replied, shaping every word slowly. “He’s stubborn enough to defeat anyone who gets in his way.” He turned to the Goddess and met Tooru’s brown eyes, deprived of their typical light. “Especially when it matters to him.”

Slowly, a smile spread on Aphrodite’s lips. “So you’re assuming you’re important enough to him that he will defeat Hades’ elite team?”

“I’m saying he cares enough about me to win against  _ Olympus _ ’ elite team,” he said without any hesitation.

Aphrodite studied him a moment. He wasn’t trying to speak it into existence. He had enough faith in the other to believe in his words. These mortals were definitely worth her time!

She burst out laughing, the sound dying when Hajime kept staring at her, unwavering.

“The Gods won’t make it so easy on them, you know,” she declared in all seriousness, wiping a tear off the corners of her eyes.

“I know.”

The woman waited for him to continue but Hajime’s attention turned back to the match, following Tooru’s steps more than the ball itself.

“They seem to be having a hard time,” she pointed out.

Hajime clicked his tongue and eventually turned to look at her again, locking his eyes with hers.

“Haven’t you bet against the Asphodels?”

“I have!” she exclaimed, putting her hands in front of her in a move struckingly close to what the real Tooru could have done. “I’m just saying that they look like they’re in trouble. I don’t like it more than you!”

The former mortal let out a sigh. Down on the battlefield, the Prometheus team walked to the side line for a time-out. The black haired fury put his hand on his hip and his eyes brushed over all of his teammates. He gave them a motivational speech, his voice loud and clear, echoing into the amphitheater and way farther. In front of him, Tooru had his eyes closed, his shoulders raising and falling regularly as he tried to stay focused.

“You could cheer him up,” Aphrodite offered again. “He’s not technically able to hear you but I’m sure that such a bond as yours would make something resonate into him—“

“He needs to win on his own,” Hajime cut her off, yet his eyes never left his lover.

The Goddess of Love let out a resigned sigh and slouched back, a lazy smile across her face. “You’re not going to tell him you watched the match, are you?”

Hajime considered the thought for a fraction of a second before he answered.

“There’s no point. It would only pressure him for tomorrow. He’s already aware of the situation, he can’t allow himself a distraction.”

As he said these words, Tooru’s face slightly turned toward him. A frown creased the mortal’s forehead and he inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze brushed the stands, filled with an unwavering determination and looking for a familiar face. It stopped exactly where Hajime sat, even though Tooru wasn’t able to see him, and Aphrodite’s grin widened into something smug.

“I told you he’d find you.”

“He’ll always find me,” the other confirmed, his voice melting with a fondness the Goddess had never once seen on him.

“What if his team loses, though?”

The Goddess’ words slashed through Hajime’s peacefulness and he flicked her a glare.

“They won’t lose,” he declared, challenging. “No this match nor the following one. I know it, and so do they.”

From the grandstands below, Hermes’ grin widened. He liked the way things were going.

* * *

“They got this set but we got the first one!” Kuroo’s voice rose, determined. “Don’t let your guard down, nothing is over.”

“And we haven’t lost yet!” Sawamura added, exchanging a look with their captain. The shadow of a smile passed on his lips and he turned to the rest of the team again, the embodiment of motivation. “We can defeat them!”

In front of them, Tanaka let out a frustrated exclamation.

“These guys are tough already, and Olympus is gonna be worse. We need to figure something out quickly.”

Every time the other team scored was a blow to his light mood. Bokuto’s cheerful exclamations were the only thing keeping him from losing his mind and lashing out onto the other team every time someone tried to pick a fight. Tanaka had been watching the Asphodels team since the day the fields had become his new home, hoping to play among them, fascinated by their game, and Prometheus had been his first chance to get a taste of it.

Now that he had started, he couldn’t stop, he really didn’t want to, and even though he hadn’t expected it to be that hard, he wasn’t ready to let everything come to a stop so abruptly.

From the bench, Aone stared at him, only to flick a glance Tooru’s way one second later. Obviously, the big guy was trying to ask to switch positions, and it would have been an interesting thing to consider, but they wanted to keep him as their secret weapon for the match against Olympus on the following day. Aone was a strength to be reckoned with, and they couldn’t let Apollo see what he was worth when they still had everything to lose.

“Have you seen them?” Tooru asked Tanaka, a fierce smile passing on his face. “They’re afraid of us. We’re just newbies and they’re experienced players. We’ll take this set, and Olympus will be no match to us.”

The other replied with a wicked grin.

“But first, we need to get there,” Sawamura added again, this time mirroring Kuroo’s first declaration.

“Let’s focus on these guys first,” the cat-fury started, grinning wildly. “Today we win this. We can pack for Olympus later.”

The team dispersed, joining their positions for the next game. Bokuto picked the ball from the ground and walked to the back line. He made it bounce a few times, adjusting his grip on the ball, testing it. Almost by instinct, he casted a glance to the referee, briefly locking eyes with Akaashi. The feeling he got from his presence was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

He spread his wings wider for balance and served the first ace of his winning streak, each scored point another proof of what he was really capable of.

Being loud wasn’t his only weapon to draw the judge’s attention to him. Winning was a very good way to do it as well.

He let out a triumphant shout with every point earnt, destabilising the other team, and soon the public started cheering for him. His face hidden from the Gods behind him, even Akaashi allowed himself a slight grin.

“That’s why they call it a bird brain,” Tsukishima mocked at the referee’s side when Bokuto missed his final serve due to the crowd’s voice growing too loud near the court.

One eyebrow raised, Akaashi glanced at the blond fury.

“Aren’t you a bird too?” he pointed out, flicking a look at the raven wings sprouting from the other’s back.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. “At least I know how to use my brain correctly.”

It didn’t take much longer for the match point to be scored. Prometheus won the third set without much trouble, and in the stands, Hermes let out a sonorous whoop, jumping from his seat to high-five Apollo. The God of the Sun was staring at the team, sparkles of joy in his eyes.

“Yer pretty impressive!” he declared after a brief silence, walking to the court to take Tooru’s hands in his.

The mortal repressed the urge to step away from the God. He had the nagging feeling that Hajime should have been the one to congratulate him and the fact that it was Apollo instead was off-putting. He searched the crowd quickly, a sting in the back of his mind telling him that he was there, but of course he found no one.

Beside Tooru, Tobio’s eyes followed Apollo’s every move, focused and eager.

“I can’t wait to see the match tomorrow!” the God declared again, excited like a child. “You guys are gonna be a real challenge for my team.”

“Don’t be too disappointed when we win,” Tooru replied, a far too polite smile on his face that contrasted with his threatening tone.

Apollo’s grip tightened on his hands, but the God’s expression didn’t change either, if only his grin broadened.

“Whether ya win or lose doesn’t matter to me, what’s really important is the performance.”

An unreadable light glinted in his eyes. The next thing Tooru knew, Apollo was already walking back to the stands, joking with Hermes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, we're already halfway through the fic! Thanks again to the few who leave comments and kudos (and to Moni, for always being there ♡)  
> See you next week for **chapter 10: Of Mortals and Gods and fleeting Goddesses**!


	10. Of Mortals and Gods and fleeting Goddesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods and Goddesses have a very irritating tendency to vanish into thin air.

Tooru sat alone among the empty stands long after the last person had disappeared, his gaze lost, thoughts storming in his mind. He didn’t raise his eyes when Hajime settled beside him in silence, nor did he move an inch.

“You look awful for someone who just won an important match,” the other pointed out as a greeting, concern slightly piercing through the mocking tone of his voice.

On the soft skin inside Tooru’s arms, bruises were blooming like blue flowers in spring. Hajime couldn’t help but stare, a frown creasing his forehead as the other remained silent.

Eventually, the attention pulled Tooru out of his torpor and he flicked the other a quick look before a smile appeared on his face, crinkling his nose and the corners of his eyes.

Hajime would have spat in his face just for that.

“Quit it,” he snapped before Tooru could even open his mouth. “What’s the matter?”

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. At the same time, a dry laugh escaped Tooru’s lips, startling Hajime.

“This was only the Asphodels and we barely made it. Tomorrow, it’s Olympus. If we lose—“

“If you lose, it’s the end,” Hajime cut him short, averting his gaze when his boyfriend searched his eyes. “I know.”

He closed his eyelids shut in a vain attempt at cutting himself from the world, but even when everything was dark around him, he could still feel Tooru. Even when he wasn’t there. Always.

And right now, all there was beside him was waves of the highest pressure crashing on a barren shore.

“Even if you lose—“ Hajime’s voice broke but he cleared his throat and proceeded as if nothing had happened. “Even if you lose, you’ll still have gone farther than anyone would have. It wasn’t in vain. You did more than—“

“Stop that.”

This time it was Tooru who cut him off, his voice sharp. When Hajime turned to him, he was struck by the expression on his face. Not the tears, but the genuine rage that twisted his features.

“Don’t you dare. I won’t lose. I  _ can’t _ lose,” he insisted, and his voice too broke on the fateful word.

Hajime nodded slowly, his face unreadable.

“You won’t lose,” he repeated in understanding.

His eyes scanned his boyfriend quickly, from his tense shoulders to the way his fists shook on his lap. Hajime reached out as if to take Tooru’s hand, stopping a few millimeters above the skin. He traced the outline of a bruise that started from the other’s wrist and went up the thumb bone.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in a whisper.

Tooru’s eyes followed his move, his breath easing as he focused on Hajime.

“A lot,” he admitted. “The bruises, not so much.”

Hajime’s hand twitched and his fingers passed through Tooru’s skin.

“It’s been more than a week, hasn’t it?” he asked again, quietly.

The other nodded without adding a word. He swallowed, the sound echoing in Hajime’s ears. His heart sank in his chest like a rock falling into the water, plummeting to the bottom — fitting.

“How long?” Hajime insisted.

Another silence, and Tooru’s fingers grabbed the hem of his chiton, the fabric curling around his knuckles.

“Tooru, how long?”

Eventually, the mortal gathered the strength to look his lost love in the eyes. Hajime barely heard Tooru’s words, the pain in his gaze enough to take his non-existent breath away.

“I guess almost one year, now.”

The bomb dropped; silence settled once more as Hajime pondered the implications of this new truth. They hadn’t said anything more when he realised he had vanished again.

* * *

Tooru was still at the same place when Bokuto found him hours later, alone, his face in his hands. As soon as he spotted the mortal, the Erinye’s happy-go-lucky’s smile faded.

The fury dropped onto a seat in front of the other, studying his face from below, concern written all over his face.

“We won,” he started. “You should be happy… To be honest, you look awful, right now.”

The other cracked a sad smile, wiping away tears that were still shining at the corners of his eyes. “Thanks. That’s only the second time someone has told this to me today.”

“What’s with the gloomy faces? Aren’t we supposed to celebrate?” another voice called, this time from behind Tooru, startling him.

Kuroo approached them and took place beside Bokuto, twisting his neck to look up at Tooru.

“You don’t usually let people see you down like this,” he pointed out in an accusing voice, raising an eyebrow and earning himself an offended look from the mortal. “Yeah, thought so. Keep pretending, you don’t want anyone to see how much of an ugly crier you are, trust me,” he continued with a crooked grin that made Tooru want to punch him in the face.

For some reason it reminded him of Hades.

The infuriating expression of the fury turned into something deeper and he tilted his head again, studying the mortal.

“How long has it been since the last time you’ve eaten anything?” he continued. “You’ve spent a lot of energy. Mortals tend to feel a bit low when they’re hungry.”

An exasperated sigh left Tooru’s lips when he shut his eyes.

“Dunno, I think I ate before the match. That’s not the point. This was a tough win, and I can’t afford to lose tomorrow—“

“Again with that old song,” Kuroo cut him off, resting his cheek on his palm, a scowl on his face that this time reminded Tooru of Hajime, only more laid back and less likely to hit him.

“We won’t let Olympus win the match,” Bokuto affirmed, drawing the attention back to himself. “We’ll show them what the other realms are made of,” he assured, a confident grin curving his lips upward.

“Listen to the owl,” Kuroo added. “When he says we’re gonna win, it means we’re gonna win.”

Tooru has to admit that as annoying as his friends could be, the Erinyes’ confidence was contagious. Soon, it diffused into the mortal like summer warmth, soothing, dissipating the dark thoughts that swirled in his head.

“All we need to do is not to let the ball drop on our side,” Bokuto concluded, jumping to his feet and facing Tooru, his chest puffed and his hands on his hips.

_ Not let the ball drop on our side _ , Tooru repeated in his mind, letting the words sink in. His eyes slided to the purple spots blooming under his skin, sensitive, the proof he was alive and fighting.

_ Not let the ball drop on our side _ .

He stood up, the court at his feet and the two Erinyes grinning at him, believing in the victory of a dysfunctional team against the elite without a doubt.

Cerberus’ heads poked out from behind the stands, studying him curiously.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he started his tune again. “If you had died a normal death, you would have been to Elysium.”

“I don’t need to go to Elysium to be reborn,” Tooru said, staring straight into the creature’s eyes. His voice was challenging, defying the confused guardian to prove him wrong. “I’m going to step out of the Underworld as a mortal, with Hajime by my side. I don’t need an eternal life there. All I need is a mortal life with him.”

The three-headed dog came closer and sat in front of him. His three sets of eyes stayed on the mortal, unwavering, and after a long moment he blew an upset sigh through his nostrils. He remained silent, however, and as small of a victory it was, it made Tooru immensely proud to have shut him up.

Behind them, on the highest row of the stands, a female figure that no one had spotted cracked a smile.

“You’re right, my boy,” she whispered to herself. “Stay focused on your goal. I believe you can rattle Olympus.”

Standing tall, Tooru casted one last gaze on the battlefield that had witnessed his first victory, one of his most important steps toward the exit. With the Erinyes’ trust, and his teammates by his side, he felt invincible. He would defeat Olympus, and by that time on the next day, he’d be back in the realm of mortals with Hajime by his side.

* * *

The night that followed was long and rough, but when he finally managed to close his eyes, for the first time since he had stepped into the Underworld, Tooru dreamt.

_ He was running in the Underworld, lost in a maze of dark corridors and sweating walls. There was something he needed to do, someone he needed to find, but he couldn’t quite remember what it all was about. Only the feeling of dread twisting his guts made him move forward, looking for something that obviously wasn’t there. _

_ He would know when he would find it. _

_ Invisible people were chatting around him, money was changing hands. In front of him, a movement caught his attention — the light fabric of a chiton swirling around a corner, calling for him. _

_ Following his instinct, Tooru doubled the pace. He forced on his legs, slipped on the wet ground of the cavern, only one thing in his mind: this was the person he had been looking for. _

_ The next corner opened to a semi-circular room and Tooru stopped still, blinded by the change in the setting. The gloomy and oppressive atmosphere of the Underworld had been replaced with an impression of limitless freedom, as if he had just broken the surface after staying too long under water. He took a deep breath in, adjusting to the new landscape. _

_ Instead of the usual dusty, grey court was another one, light and shining with gold — actual, pure gold. _

_ Their back to him, immaculate white wings sprouting from the smooth skin between their shoulder blades, someone was standing in front of Tooru right at the edge of the amphitheater that towered over the scene. Curly light brown hair was cascading down, reaching the middle of Goddess’ back. _

_ A laurel wreath in one hand, a palm frond in the other, the girl turned her face to look at Tooru. She didn’t look much older than thirteen, but Tooru had learnt not to judge someone by their looks. A smirk spread on the girl’s lips, playful, nearly mocking. _

_ “I’ll stand by your side,” she declared. _

_ And on these words, she turned toward Tooru and let herself fall back over the edge. The mortal didn’t have time to scream; the girl was already flying away. _

* * *

When he woke up with a start, a scream trapped in his throat, Tooru knew there was something important he had forgotten. Morpheus and Lethe had ganged up against him, putting hope close enough for him to see and keeping it far enough that he wouldn’t be able to reach it.

Dreams were important, often premonitory, and Tooru knew he should have been able to learn something from the one he had just had… if only he could remember it!

More frustrated with himself than upset, the mortal wandered away from the tent once more. His feet took him to the dark lit court, and he sat in the stands, staring until his breath calmed down and his thoughts cleared.

“So, today’s the big day,” a voice that he had expected to hear rose beside him.

He flicked a glance at Hermes and turned his attention back to the court.

“I brought some more food. You mortals need to eat, I’ve heard. And you look like you’re starving.”

“I’m not—“ Tooru started, his brows furrowing when his stomach growled loud enough to cover the sound of Cerberus snoring in the distance. He closed his mouth, staring daggers at the amused God.

The latter fumbled into his satchel and dropped a small piece of cake into the mortal’s palm, grinning.

“It’s called ambrosia! It’s the food of the Gods, but I thought you might use some.”

Tooru eyed it suspiciously for a moment, weighting it into his hand.

“It’s not gonna kill me or something, is it?”

The other’s lips suddenly drew a thin line across his face.

“It shouldn’t… I don’t think so…” he hesitated, his eyes going from the food to the mortal’s face. “Well, I’ve heard it made some people immortal but you know how rumours spread…”

“I bet you’re the one starting most of them,” Tooru countered, putting the food back in the laughing God’s hands.

He exchanged it for a regular grape of the kind the mortal had grown used to, and they both ate in silence — God and mortal sitting together, not equals but partners at least.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” the God of thieves exclaimed when he was about to leave.

He tossed something to Tooru, and the object managed to catch the cold light of the flames burning far away in the distance.

Hermes had brought a greeting from Aphrodite with him, in the shape of a fibula. As soon as his eyes fell on the piece of jewelry, Tooru froze, casting a worried gaze on the God.

“Where did you find this?” he asked, absentmindedly brushing the object, holding it close to his heart.

There was no mistake possible, he knew that brooch for he had carved it himself summers ago.

He traced the uneven, scaly surface he had chiseled and painted a dark shade of green, one that matched the colour of Hajime’s eyes. He had intended it to be a hydra, at first, as his boyfriend had been obsessed with the creature for as far as he could remember, but a misplaced move had beheaded the beast and Tooru had turned it into another shape, settling for a snake curling in the shape of a lyre. It was a symbol that bound the both of them together, and even though Hajime had made fun of it at first, he had fastly pinned it to his chiton and it had stayed there until the end.

Therefore, it should have been lost to the bottom of the sea.

“Aphrodite retrieved it. I think she got it from Poseidon… No idea how she convinced the poor guy… She told me she only asked, but I’m pretty sure she bullied him,” he laughed again, a malicious light in his eyes. “Anyway, you should wear it. He’s watching you, you know?”

When Tooru looked up, he didn’t have time to ask who Hermes was talking about — Hades, Hajime, Apollo? — the God had already disappeared.

He hadn’t been sitting alone for two minutes when someone else showed up beside him, this time startling him.

“Can you guys please stop doing that?!” he groaned, glaring at the other God and looking him up and down.

“My name literally means  _ the Unseen _ , you know,” the other replied, sarcasm heavy in his voice and a lazy smirk upon his face.

“Duh, I’m Greek too,  _ you know _ ,” the mortal said in the same tone, all the respect due to the divinity long lost. There was something to Hades that made him familiar, and somehow Tooru couldn’t help but defy him. “Anyway, why are you here? Are you gonna threaten me or something?”

Hades seemed to consider the thought for a split second, but he shook his head, making a dismissive gesture at the offer with his hand.

“I’m on your side,” he dropped, his eyes drifting shortly to the court and then back to the mortal, all playfulness gone from them. “I hope you’ll win today,” he added, plucking a grape from Tooru’s hand and tossing it into his open mouth without making eye-contact with the mortal.

“Don’t tell me  _ you _ bet on me  _ too _ ?” Tooru couldn’t help but ask, a slight frown upon his face, almost insolent.

The other’s eyebrows lifted to his hairline. “There are bets going on?”

“Apparently,” the mortal shrugged defensively. “Your God friends didn’t tell you?”

A dry laugh escaped Hades’ lips, making Tooru jump again. He found himself standing on the edge of his seat, ready to run away or dodge whatever would come next. Instead, the God’s face darkened ominously and the immortal slouched forward.

“Have you seen this place?” Hades started, pointing at his kingdom spreading as far as the eye could see around them. “Do you think we have meetings around here?” the God scorned. “Usually, the only Olympians who can come here are Persephone and Hermes. That’s it. And that little brat hardly comes to visit us. Most of the time he’s hanging out with the dead or the Erinyes or whoever he finds on his way. And in case you were wondering, Thanatos isn’t fond of company either.”

Silence settled, a bit tensed, as Tooru studied the God. The latter ran a hand through his curly hair, exhaling longly. Had he known better, Tooru would have thought the God was lonely.

“You don’t look that old,” he stated instead, his brain-to-mouth filter obviously obsolete. “Around my age, maybe? How come you’re a God?”

Hades flicked him a bored look that immediately sparkled with mocking amusement.

“You don’t look that stupid,” Hades replied in the same fashion. “How come you came to the Underworld?”

A weird silence fell upon the improbable duo, and suddenly Hades burst out laughing, followed by Tooru.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” the God eventually asked again, smirking, but his smile was fonder than before.

Tooru couldn’t help the crooked grin that flashed on his face. “You’re a God. You keep Hajime captive here. I know you’re just doing your job, but Gods aren’t that reliable.”

The corners of the latter’s mouth twitched, as if trying to suppress another laugh.

“Seriously, though,” Tooru continued, leaning forward, closer to the God, as if they were a pair of old friends exchanging rumours. “Why do you want me to win?”

Hades leant back into his seat, crossing his hands behind his head, and somehow it made him look even younger. His gaze fixed on an invisible point above their heads, blurring until he was completely lost in thoughts.

“You see, my brothers and I drew lots, back then. They got the sky and the seas, and all I got was this lousy piece of dirt. I made it my kingdom, but you’ve seen how it looks — dead. Even Persephone leaves me two thirds of the year. I’m not the God of Death, contrary to what most people think,” he declared, this time eyeing Tooru. “I get lonely too.”

The mortal’s eyes widened and he snorted in the face of the God of the Underworld, bitter.

“Oh, poor God, he gets to live for all eternity but his partner leaves him two thirds of the year. Hey, man, I’ve got news for you! Mine  _ died _ !” he snapped between gritted teeth.

“You could have seen him again,” the God replied, unaffected by Tooru’s wrath. “In Ely—“

Tooru cut him off. “I swear, God or not, if I hear you say Elysium, I will punch you in the face.”

Hades took long seconds to study the mortal. His gaze was fierce, determined; his knuckles clenched on his clothes. The God didn’t doubt a second he would do it, in such a state of mind.

“That would be regretful,” he pointed out slowly, the threat barely hidden. He may have grown fond of the mortal, a God was a God, and nobody was allowed to disrespect him. His thoughts drifted away nonetheless, and he continued as if nothing had happened. “But, to be honest, Takahiro…”

“Takahiro?” Tooru frowned, confused.

Hades flicked him an annoyed look, shrugging. “I mean, Persephone. You know, it’s not their real name. It’s more like…”

“More like a title. Yeah, I’ve heard that somewhere already. Go on.”

Hades’ thoughts stopped in their tracks and he raised a surprised eyebrow at the mortal. A few seconds ago, he had genuinely been willing to punch him. Now, he was listening to the God’s complaints, and Hades could tell he wasn’t faking it.

Thankful for the attention, the God changed his mind and went for advice instead of a backstory.

“Look out for them in Olympus. They have a foot in all realms, unlike me, and the other Gods will probably try to cheat. Takahiro is on your side, even though they don’t show it much. You’re entertaining, we got used to having you around,” he admitted with another one of his lazy grins when Tooru was about to reply. He didn’t leave him the time to, his smile already faded into a dangerous expression. “And don’t give your trust to anyone up there. Not even familiar faces.”

Tooru opened his mouth to ask what he meant about that when Kuroo showed up at the bottom of the stands, calling for him. When Tooru glanced aside again, Hades had vanished into thin air.

“Can you  _ stop _ doing that?!” he groaned again, and this time he was certain he heard the God laugh in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The big match is approaching! Thanks for sticking around!  
> Leave a comment to make a writer's day and see you for **chapter 11: Hades’ petty shenanigans**
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	11. Hades’ petty shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight, your humble servant offers you pain on a silver platter.

The Prometheus team spent the whole morning practising until everything hurt and they couldn’t take it anymore. The decisive match was scheduled for the evening, and they weren’t sure what to expect from the meeting. None of them even knew what Olympus or its team was like.

Keeping a close eye on the mortal all day, Kuroo made it his duty to make sure that Tooru ate enough, much to the latter’s complaint.

“If I eat more I won’t be able to lift my body, you damn cat,” he opposed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If you die from starvation in Olympus, I’m not bringing your body back here!” the other replied, adopting the same posture.

They kept glaring daggers at each other in a battle of unwavering wills until Bokuto, Tanaka and Sawamura joined in and mirrored them with the most serious faces they could display. It didn’t take long for the group to burst out laughing, heaving the tension that stiffened all of their muscles.

Tobio revolved around them like a solitary planet, not quite fitting in but yet necessary and willing to be acknowledged. He didn’t let anything go wrong on the court, but Tsukishima was no longer there to pick a fight with Charon, and the atmosphere wasn’t tense enough for Tooru to call him out. All of them knew what was on the line, and there was no need to remind them of what both Tooru and Tobio had to lose.

“It’s almost time,” Sawamura pointed out after a moment, calling the game they had been playing to an end.

He walked to Tooru, a careful light in his eyes, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Everything’s alright?”

The other glanced around one more time before his gaze settled on the wandering soul, an almost feverish gleam in his eyes.

“How much time until we leave?”

“Less than an hour.”

Tooru nodded, nervousness taking over him as the metaphorical clock ticked above his head. After ten more minutes — or so he assumed that ten minutes had passed — he walked away from his teammates. He stepped further into the darkness, pacing up and down, until cold dread had frozen in his veins and he could no longer take it. He was running out of time and he didn’t like the ominous chills running down his spine.

“Hades!” he called around, earning himself startled looks from surrounding creatures he couldn’t quite make out. “Persephone! You promised me I’d see Hajime one last time before the big match!”

“Oh, don’t be so loud,” the Goddess of Spring immediately groaned a few meters away only, Hades by their side. “We have a kingdom to rule, we’re allowed to be a bit late!”

“You can be late when I’m gone,” Tooru grumbled under his breath.

He jumped when another voice rose behind his back, a mocking smile clearly audible.

“What have I told you about disrespecting the Gods?”

Tooru turned in one single motion, putting a hand on his hip for a more dramatic effect. He felt his expression melt when his gaze fell on Hajime, and somehow it seemed to him that the ghostly glow of his body was fainter, more human than before.

“I didn’t disrespect them!” he retorted, lifting his chin slightly. “Besides, they started it!”

A smile stretched the corners of his lips when Hajime laughed, and he eyed Persephone briefly, just to make sure they weren’t actually trying to murder him. Tooru froze for a second when he found nothing but the Asphodels staring back at him, but soon Hajime had drawn all of his attention again.

* * *

Hidden from the worlds around them, the two Gods were nonetheless still there, watching the two humans as they pretended this wasn’t the last time they would see each other.

Persephone nudged their husband’s side with their elbow, eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown.

“Come on, Issei. Don’t be a jerk,” they commanded, but the dryness was smoothed down by the soft way their voice wrapped around the other’s given name. It was a caress, the sound of a breeze brushing blooming flowers in the earliest days of spring.

They were nearly already gone, swept far away from Hades, where he couldn’t join them.

The latter cracked a smile, glancing at the two humans. As soon as Hajime noticed the shift in his energy, he looked down at his own hands, then up at his lover, disbelief written all over his face, the joke he had been telling forgotten. He mouthed the other’s name, an inaudible whisper. In front of him, it took Tooru a moment to understand. As soon as realisation hit him, a barely human yelp escaped his lip, and he jumped on the other, both of them nearly falling to the ground at the uncontrolled strength of the impact.

Beside Hades, Persephone was smiling contentedly.

“You really grew fond of them,” the God of the Underworld pointed out, mocking.

“Says the one who spent hours talking to Tooru,” the other retorted, raising an eyebrow and side-eyeing their partner. “People talk.”

“Dead people shouldn’t talk,” Hades replied, softening when Persephone laughed.

His shoulders dropped the next minute and he lifted his chin as he always did when something was bothering him.

“Come on, you should be used to it by now,” Persephone sighed with another frown. “It’s only for a few months.”

“Two thirds of the year, Hiro. Two thirds of eternity. And it gets awfully silent down here.”

He didn’t say that everything felt dead when Persephone left, he couldn’t speak it into existence. And yet, every time they stepped out of the Underworld, even the ambient whispers fell silent in the Asphodels; even the Mourning fields held their breath, as if waiting for the Goddess of Spring to come back again. The Underworld lost the few colours it earned when they were walking around. The trees withered out, the fires casted bigger shadows. The creatures locked away in Tartarus howled louder, and rather than Hades’ realm, it looked like Thanatos’ domain.

“You can always talk Thanatos into bringing  _ another _ mortal down here,” Persephone said as if reading his thoughts, purposely accusing. “Too bad these ones will be gone at the same time as me.”

Hades stiffened, switching position uncomfortably. “How was I supposed to know it’d take him seven months to come here? Apollo and Aphrodite were supposed to help them find the way.”

“Then maybe don’t get mortals involved in your whims next time,” Persephone cut their husband off. “The guy better win the match,” they added, lower, their eyes back on the couple who couldn’t take their hands off each other. “I’d hate it if Olympus won again.”

Hades let out a short laugh. “You really are fond of them.”

Persephone nudged him again, this time bumping their shoulders. They stayed there, leaning against their husband, sliping their hand into his where nobody could see them.

Issei gazed down on his partner, kissing the other’s forehead, his lips meeting a soft patch of pink hair. He really was fond of them, too.

* * *

Hajime’s fingertips brushed the fibula again, awestruck. He didn’t raise his gaze. He could feel Tooru’s on him, and its intensity was too much to take, much more than what he could bear in such a moment.

Pulling on their intertwined hands, Tooru invited him to sit down on the ground with him. As soon as they both were settled, Hajime slipped closer, until their sides were pressed against each other. Neither of them could stand the questions that stood in the air above them, pressuring them.

Tooru passed his arm around his lover’s waist and nestled his face in the crook of Hajime’s neck, taking deep breaths in. It smelt like earth and mist — nothing like Hajime. The salty scent was gone, so was the warmth of his skin. Tooru was dizzy and his guts clenched in his belly when he realised that other things had vanished as well. Forgotten, the impression of invulnerability. He used to feel like everything was possible when Hajime was there to support him, but his death had broken something inside of him.

“How much time do we have left?” he asked in Hajime’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” the other answered, his free hand finding Tooru’s nape, brushing the thin hair absentmindedly, as he used to do when they were sharing a peaceful time. “Hades told me I’m bound to this place, though,” he continued, his voice going hoarse in the middle of the sentence. “I won’t be able to watch you play, this time.”

Tooru’s lips stretched into a smile against his skin, but Hajime’s stomach dropped in his chest.

“All that matters is that you were there,” Tooru assured.

_ There for the matches, there in his arms at night, there in his life all this time. _

Another heavy stone fell in his chest.

He wanted to say thank you, but it would have sounded too much like a farewell.

The mortal swallowed back a sob that he couldn’t allow himself to submit to and straightened up. Hajime’s hand fell flat on his lap, a motionless creature shot in the prime of its life.

They exchanged one look and Hajime’s eyebrows scrunched up in a funny way. Tooru took another second to engrave it into his memory.

He had to do it, though. He had to say it. He had to, because last time he had been robbed from his goodbye. He wouldn’t stand it happening once more.

“Don’t—“ Hajime started, but Tooru’s smile shut him up. It brought tears to his eyes that Hajime didn’t even bother to hide.

“Just in case we lose,” he started, shaking his head when Hajime tried to interrupt him again. “Just in case we lose and I don’t get to see you ever again…”

His eyes burnt but he kept the grin in check on his face. Even though Hajime’s expression was twisted with pain, even though Hajime wanted to yell and shout and tell him to shut up, Tooru continued, his grin unwavering, for it was the only thing keeping him afloat.

It twitched when Hajime bit harshly on his bottom lip in a vain attempt at stopping the flow of tears that ran down his cheeks. How ironic that Tooru would feel them falling down on the back of his hand, this time.

He took a deep breath in, refusing to close his eyes in case he would open them again and Hajime would be gone.

“Just in case we lose and I don’t get to see you ever again,” he repeated, his words like a chisel carving marble, carefully shaping it into a statue that would outlive everyone, even the Gods themselves. “Even if I don’t get a second chance with you, I’m glad I got to live at least one life with you at my side.”

He expected Hajime to deny. He expected him to tell him he was going to win, no matter what, but even Hajime couldn’t put so much pressure on Tooru.

Instead, he tightened his grip on his lover’s wrist, pulling him closer until he could bury his face in Tooru’s hair.

“I’m glad too,” he said between tears and shaky breaths.

And it was enough. It was all he needed to say.

They stayed like that until someone cleared his throat near them, clinging to each other until the last possible moments.

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto started, and he looked like he really was. “We have to go…”

Tooru nodded against Hajime’s shoulder, not daring to look at the fury yet.

“I’ll be there in a second,” he managed to say.

He didn’t recognize his voice, he wasn’t even sure he understood the words. It felt like a foreign language, heavy on his tongue. Everything he knew was Hajime, and soon it would all be taken from him again. Possibly forever.

Footsteps faded away as Bokuto left to give them privacy for a little longer.

“Come on, you have to go,” Hajime declared, kissing Tooru’s temple.

It was gentle, a caress, his lips barely touching his boyfriend’s skin. Tooru nodded again, at a loss for words.

The mortal stood up slowly, as if watching his own life happen in front of him. He felt out of place, Hajime hardly tangible in his arms. The other followed his movement, calm, resigned.

When Tooru walked away and his hand slipped from Hajime’s, the last piece of his heart was torn off him. It would remain with Hajime, where it belonged.

The myth said that people were once created with two faces, four arms and four legs, but the Gods were afraid of the power humans held within. Zeus decided to split these beings into two distinct entities that Apollo had to quickly patch up to put them back in shape. Since that day, it was said humans were seeking their other halves in order to be complete again.

Tooru didn’t like this myth. He and Hajime were both complete beings, the nuance lay in the fact they completed each other and made each other stronger. He liked to call him his other half, though.

And yet… Yet, this time it felt like he was leaving everything to Hajime. He could take it all — his heart and his soul and his thoughts and everything else. Tooru would get them back when he’d win.

Or he would gladly give him it all away.

“Tooru?”

He turned back one last time to see Hajime’s expression and the rare fond smile that showed on his face. The smile that had always been his.

It was bathed in tears that Hajime had stopped trying to hide, but it was there, and it was for Tooru only to see.

“I love you,” Hajime breathed. “Thank you.”

Tooru didn’t stay long enough to see him fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my absolute favourite chapter from this fic, so I hope you liked it as much as I do ♡  
> Are you ready for Olympus? We're going there in **chapter 12: Tooru meets the Olympians**!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


	12. Tooru meets the Olympians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a heartbreaking seperation with Hajime, Tooru has one trial left. It's time for Prometheus to make their way toward Olympus. This is it, the home stretch. If they screw up there, it's the end.

“Are you ready?” Persephone asked, their eyes brushing the team gathered around them.

On the players’ faces, emotions ranged from determination to despair to boredom. The Goddess of Spring had offered to take them to Olympus themselves, and thus the whole Prometheus team was now standing in the middle of Hades and Persephone’s palace. Hermes had been mildly offended by the fact he wouldn’t be the one to lead the team, but the Goddess couldn’t care less. Persephone had to go back to the surface soon, anyway, so at least they could make sure nobody would get lost on the way up.

“Anything is good to defer the moment I will have to suffer through Demeter’s speech about marriage and how I should have been more careful with Hades,” they said, rolling their eyes. “I know it by heart, by now.”

The tension was palpable in front of them, but the deity kept ignoring the gloomy atmosphere. Frankly, their determination to not give a damn was frustrating.

“Yeah I’m sure that’s plenty interesting, but can we please not be late for the match?” Tooru couldn’t help but grumble. He was done with all the godly business; all he wanted was to get his man back and go home already.

The goodbye-that-felt-an-awful-lot-like-a-farewell had put a serious blow to his morale, and his apprehension regarding the outcome of the incoming match wasn’t easing his thinning nerves.

“Hey, careful with the tone, they’re a Goddess,” Kuroo reminded him with a concerned look.

Persephone huffed, glaring down at the mortal.

“Again with the ‘ _ You can be late when I’m gone’ _ , huh? Be careful not to have an unfortunate accident before it all begins,” they warned, but Tooru only stared back with a deadpan expression.

“If I may say so, he’s not wrong,” Minos intervened, earning himself a glare from the deity. “We can’t risk getting disqualified because we’re late.”

“Alright,” Persephone sighed again, a highly annoyed expression on their face. “Everybody’s here? Charon, Minos, three Erinyes, two wandering souls, and a mortal. Oh, and hi, Hades,” they added, raising an interrogative eyebrow.

Not far from the crowd, the Ruler of the Underworld was leaning against a wall, his body half hidden in the shadows. He stared at Tooru for a moment, his face deprived of all trace of amusement, and sent him a quick nod that the other gave back fiercely. They would win. They would.

Persephone gave Hades one last look, mocking and yet full of longing, and turned back to the stony stairs that climbed up the back of the palace.

Their colour seemed to be lighter the higher they went, and even if he craned his neck, Tooru couldn’t see where they ended. It was going to be one long ascension.

At least that could count as a warm-up, couldn’t it?

Glancing back over his shoulder, Bokuto walked closer to Tooru, his eyes on the blond figure following them.

“Why is Tsukki coming again?” he asked under his breath, only deepening the frown on the mortal’s face.

“I can hear you, Bokuto-san,” the raven fury groaned, and Minos repressed a smile beside him. “Apparently they can’t allow the three of us to exist in separate realms, so it was either I went to Olympus with you, or the two of you had to stay down here with me.”

He flicked Tooru a pissed look. Obviously he would rather have stayed in the Underworld, but the Gods had forced his hand, and there he was, going up to Olympus to be made fun of and waste his time.

Choosing to ignore the bothersome fury, Tooru looked at the makeshift team once again, meeting Tobio’s nervous gaze midway. It mirrored the cold grip clenching around his guts, but seeing the ferryman in such a state forced Tooru to put on a braver face. He couldn’t let doubts and fear get the better of the team, not when they were so close to the last trial.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he assured in a firm voice when he saw Tobio falter. “We’re gonna win this and in a few hours we’re back here to celebrate.”

Speaking victory into existence was as much a comfort to him as it was to everyone else, and he found himself counting the stairs to keep his mind busy during their ascension to Olympus.

He was well over a thousand when the pressure in the air changed, and when he looked up again, Tooru was faced with a vision that was somewhat familiar, even though he couldn’t recall where he got the feeling from.

All around them, everything was shining white, the vision contrasting with the everlasting darkness of the Underworld that he had gotten used to. Marble shone like anything, immaculate and blinding, and threads of gold lined the architecture, highlighting delicate silhouettes engraved in the stone. When he tried to look by an opening in the wall, all that Tooru met were clouds as far as the eye could see.

Mount Olympus, home of the Gods.

In spite of the beauty of the place, Tooru couldn’t tell whether he liked it. Everything was too clean, too perfect, and somehow it made him ill at ease.

He might not have been the only one feeling uncomfortable, because Bokuto kept creeping closer to him, the tips of his feathers brushing Tooru’s back. Behind them, Sawamura was straight up pushing Tobio, the poor ferryman clinging to his chiton for dear life. He was a creature of the dark, all this blinding light was foreign to him. The only reason he hadn’t crawled back to the Underworld was probably that Hinata he had talked about, the one he was risking everything to see again.

“Hey, Tobio?” Tooru called, side-eyeing the other and meeting a conflicted look. “When you get your guy back, you better introduce him to me, alright?”

The other stared in silence for a few seconds. When he nodded, his hands were already steadier.

* * *

The court was in the middle of an amphitheater but the atmosphere was totally different from the gloomy, almost intimate one in the Underworld. The disposition was the same, with the stands gathered on one side of the court, but that was where the comparison stopped.

In the upper rows, the seats, made out of marble, were pressed against one another, room and comfort obviously increasing as the eye went down. At the very top, lesser nymphs and satyrs sat on the bare stone. The middle rows, probably to the attention of minor divinities, were dotted with colourful cushions and a few plates of food served in pure gold tableware. Finally, at the very bottom were grandstands similar to the ones that the Gods had occupied in the Underworld, fancily equipped with furnitures and carpets and everything one could be wishing for.

Nymphs were running around, strikingly beautiful and half naked, offering nectar and ambrosia to whichever God wanted some. The deities had gathered by small groups in each stand, and Tooru’s attention drifted from his teammates to detail the Gods. His first thought was that not all the Olympians seemed to have bothered coming to the biggest match of the year.

In the central lodge, the biggest one, wearing a yellow chiton that fell low on his torso, stood who he figured was Zeus, with his fancy undercut and the seductive smiles he sent the nymphs. When the king of the Gods noticed the mortal’s attention on him, he raised his cup to Tooru.

“I hope you’ll make this fun!” he cheered, laughing at his own declaration like it was the funniest joke ever.

Tooru immediately disliked him.

Beside him in the same stand was another, seemingly older man who bore a worried expression on his face. Blond hair slicked back on his head, held by what seemed to be a headband made out of algae — Tooru hoped it only  _ looked _ like algae, he wouldn’t stand that guy smelling like fish — Poseidon kept his eyes on the mortal without saying a word. Waves swirled in his brown eyes; Tooru looked away, sickness and wrath battling for dominance inside of him.

Poseidon didn’t even bother to pretend he was listening to his brother. Was he feeling guilty? Gods usually didn’t have time to bother with such mortal-like emotions, but from the way his eyebrows lifted on his forehead, the God of the Seas definitely looked like he was. Well. Served him right. Sure, Odysseus had been taunting him, but Poseidon was the reason Tooru had lost Hajime in the first place.

In the next stand sat Persephone, apparently stuck in a long conversation with Demeter. Being a male-presenting Goddess seemed to be a family tradition, as well as the fancy hair colour, judging by the Goddess of Harvest’s black-tipped silver hair.

“I still don’t understand why you keep going down there,” they told their child who sent a bored look Tooru’s way, seeking either help or a witness.

“Kita, stop bothering the kid!” someone intervened, jumping on Demeter’s back like it was the most normal thing to do.

At the sight, Tooru’s heart skipped a beat. He choked on his own breath as it caught in his throat, and immediately the whole attendance was looking at him.

“What’s wrong with this one?” someone said, a man’s voice coming from his left. It sounded an awful lot like Apollo’s voice, except it was more collected.

“Heh, maybe he’s regretting his life choices and wanna go back to the Underworld faster,” the God of the Sun replied.

He didn’t have to look up to know the twins were making fun of him, Artemis probably frowning and Apollo smirking down at him.

He risked another look toward Persephone and Demeter, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating — he would have noticed if the grapes he had eaten had fermented, right?

Tooru blinked a few times for good measure, but there he was again, Hajime, draped over the older deity’s shoulders, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

“Oooh, sorry, it’s probably me,” Hajime declared, and he laughed again, so out of character that Tooru’s stomach twisted.

“Should I take care of him?” another angry-looking guy intervened. From the fire that blazed in his eyes, he couldn’t be anyone else than Ares, God of War.

“Nah, thanks, Kyou, I’m fine. Good luck on the court, Tooru,” Hajime continued.

He waved at Tooru, all toothy smile and light behaviour, and for a second the mortal was certain it was a nightmare. He was going to wake up any second, now. Any second.

“Saeko, stop messing with the mortal,” another tall, lanky man intervened — how many more of them were going to pop out of nowhere?!

Except this one wasn’t frowning like his tone led to think. Instead, the red haired man sported the widest grin Tooru had ever seen in person, almost literally stretching from one ear to the other.

“He’s gonna be no fun if he dies before the match!” the God exclaimed in a lilting voice that sounded oddly threatening.

From the vines curling around his waist and the leopard that followed him around, there was no doubt that this guy was Dionysus, God of Insanity among other things. Tooru could see why. He made a mental note to avoid him at all costs.

Persephone’s gaze went to and fro between the mortal and the-one-who-couldn’t-be-Hajime. They stood up abruptly, nearly knocking all the cushions over, and walked to Tooru to lead him back to the side of the court where the rest of the team was waiting for him.

“I don’t know what or who you’re seeing, but this is Aphrodite,” they warned in a low voice, squeezing the mortal’s shoulder with a bit too much strength. “Don’t be fooled.”

“Hajime—” Tooru started, coughing again.

He glared back at the Goddess of Love who waved at him nonchalantly, a grin on her lips — on Hajime’s lips. Tooru felt sick again.

“What? He’s not—”

“That’s who I’m seeing,” he added.

Persephone fell silent, their eyes widening as they looked back at Aphrodite again.

“Well, then. At least you know he can’t be here,” they eventually said, studying Tooru carefully like they had just discovered a new species. There was a warm light in their eyes that Tooru couldn’t read. “Don’t let her mess with you. The Erinye, Minos and Athena will be there to make sure this is a fair match, but the Gods aren’t known to play by the rules… And it’s common knowledge nobody can contradict Athena’s decisions without being in serious trouble.”

“Aphrodite said she was on my side,” the mortal still opposed, frowning at the other Goddess again. He hated that she had taken Hajime’s appearance. It looked like a monster wearing his lover’s skin, terribly familiar and yet foreign. Dangerous.

“Don’t trust the Gods. None of them.”

He eyed Persephone briefly, raising an eyebrow as if to say “ _ You are one too, you know.” _

“I never said you could trust me either,” they confirmed, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of their mouth. “But I gave Issei my word, and I really want to see their faces when they lose against a team like yours. So you better not disappoint me, Oikawa Tooru.”

On these words, they let go of the mortal and went back to their seat. Tooru didn’t know if he imagined the tension in their shoulders.

From his own stand, sitting between his twin brother and Hermes, Apollo winked at the mortal, an infuriating smile on his lips. Tooru was glad the twin deities had a different hair colour — Apollo’s was golden, while Artemis’ was silver — else he would never have been able to tell the two of them apart. Or perhaps… he guessed the most provocative one would always be Apollo.

“Hey, Tooru,” Kuroo called.

Tooru tore his gaze away from the blinding Gods and turned his attention back to his teammates and to the match that was going to start very soon.

As soon as he was sure he was listening, the fury’s lips curled into an ominously mocking smirk and Tooru braced himself for whatever was to come.

“Looks like you’re pretty popular with the nymphs,” the fury teased, flicking a glance at the top rows of the amphitheater where dozens of eyes were on them.

Near the Gods, a dryad tripped over her own feet when Tooru’s eyes fell on her, and she nearly spilled the totality of her wine over Haji— over  _ Aphrodite _ ’s chiton. Hah, that’s what you get for messing with a mortal’s feelings.

There had been a time when all of this — pretty nymphs fawning over him; finally being worthy of the Gods’ attention — would have mattered to Tooru, but it was long gone. Now, the mortal had only one thing in mind: to win.

He had to win, for Hajime.

He had to win, for Tobio, and for Bokuto, and for every person who had helped him.

He had to win, to show the world what he could achieve when he meant it; to show the world that his feelings were worth the trouble, worth defying death and fate and the Gods themselves.

He set his gaze back on the fury, filled with a determination that switched to malice. Kuroo’s smile twitched nervously at the sight.

"Speaking of, about you and Sawamura..." Tooru prompted cheekily, keeping his voice barely low enough for Kuroo to hear.

A warm, loud laugh came from the depth of the fury’s throat and he walked to Tooru, passing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer, his grin never leaving his lips.

"If you say anything, I'll make sure you die for good," he threatened with the same joyful lilt he always had, a dangerous light glinting in his eyes.

The tips of his nails sharpened into claws, he brushed the length of Tooru’s shoulder, reminding him that Kuroo was a fury and furies weren’t to be taken lightly.

Still, it took a lot more for Tooru to be impressed, especially by a creature he had spent so much time with during the past days. He flashed an even wicker grin at the winged one, falsely menacing.

"If I die, you'll be stuck with me in the Underworld forever. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Kuroo’s aura swelled, nearly swallowing the mortal into his suffocating energy. He wrapped his wing around the other, imprisoning him in his grip, his down-like skin pressing against Tooru’s bare arm. Cut from Olympus’ brightness, all that he could see was darkness, all that he could smell was the scent of the fury, strong and suffocating and so close to death.

The fury’s grin stretched, fangs longer that they were one second ago. His eyes had nothing left of their usual vaguely-mortal shape. It was a fury’s glare, golden and cold. A predator’s face.

“Guys, the match is gonna start, we’re waiting for you,” Sawamura reminded them, sending the duo a stern expression that only he could pull off, something that read “ _ What are the two of you even doing? _ ”

Immediately, the fury switched back to his normal appearance, his dangerosity hidden deep under his smug look. Unimpressed by what had just happened, Tooru took Kuroo’s arm off his shoulders and shoved his wing aside, never leaving the fury’s eyes. They exchanged another vindictive look before they made their way to the rest of their team.

“Don’t you dare,” Kuroo hissed one last time in the other’s ear, as one last reminder of his true nature.

“Then make sure we win,” Tooru sing-sang, carelessly striding to the team.

Nonetheless, a careful part of his mind remained on the fury on his heels, watching for an attack. Kuroo followed him without ever letting go of his scary grin.

As soon as they gathered, Zeus jumped to his feet, effectively preventing Prometheus from having a motivating speech before the beginning of the match.

“Ladies and gents and... other... creatures,” the God started, theatrically wincing when his eyes fell on the furies — they probably didn’t meet his standard canons of beauty — “Thanks for coming to the annual volleyball match! Usually, it opposes the Underworld’s Asphodels and Olympus’ beloved Aristos. This time, however, it seems our opponents have been overthrown by a whole new team.”

He turned to them, gauging each member, the corners of his lips twitching as he repressed a laugh.

“This match will be held in two winning sets. To ensure that both sides follow the rules, we will have two referees counting the points! On my right, the unwavering grey-eyed Goddess, the one whose beauty is only equal to her wisdom, the mighty Athena!” he cheered, pointing at a woman Tooru hadn’t noticed so far.

Reserved, collected, as majestic as a queen, the Goddess nodded at the audience without saying a word. Her long, black hair framed her face like a painting, highlighting the mole at the corner of her mouth. If beauty could kill, many mortals surely had died by her hand.

“And our second referee will be no one else than my formerly mortal son, Minos,” Zeus continued, this time pointing at the one Bokuto referred to as Akaashi and who seemed less than pleased to be the center of attention. “Well, let’s hope both teams have fun!” the God of the Sky declared ironically, clapping his hands together and producing a rumble of thunder that marked the beginning of the match.

In the other booth, Persephone motioned for Tsukishima to keep an eye on the Gods. What a single fury could do about cheating Gods, Tooru wondered, but somehow knowing that he was there to keep them in check was reassuring.

“We got this!” Tanaka shouted as he took place on the court.

He didn’t care that Zeus was already trying to throw them off. They were going to win, and he wouldn’t let anyone prove him wrong. This was the chance of his life — of his death, actually. He had been waiting to play against Olympus’ famous Aristos since the day he had stepped into the Underworld, and he wasn’t going to let his team down.

“Let’s show them!” Kuroo added.

He extended his arm to the right, in Tooru’s direction, and his grin turned into something dangerous when the mortal slammed his hand onto his, their past quarrel already forgotten.

“Tobio, that’s your time to shine!” Tooru shouted without looking back. 

He took one second to give Apollo a wicked grin that the God mirrored challengingly.

They were going to win this.

They were going to win this match and get everything sorted out.

Tobio was going to have Hinata back.

Tooru was going to bring Hajime home.

Everything was going to be alright.

Tooru was convinced everything would work just fine. That is, until they lost the first set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys be interested in a list of each God/creature and which character represents them in this fic? I don't know if it's necessary, so you tell me (there are still some you haven't met yet).


	13. Nike cheering on the sideline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prometheus has lost the first set against Olympus. The match continues.

“What’s with the gloomy faces?” Kuroo scolded the team, as if they were children coming back home covered in mud and looking guilty. “That was just the first set, all we need is to get the next two.”

In front of him, Tooru exhaled deeply and placed both his hands on his hips to give himself a confidence boost. He could feel Aone’s eyes on his back, and if the guy kept staring at him like this, he was probably going to end up piercing a hole straight through the mortal’s back.

“I think we need to switch someone with him,” Tooru offered, pointing at the giant sitting on the bench near Minos. “He’ll make our defense stronger.”

The question was, who could they sub out? Obviously, Tooru and Tobio were out of the question. They were the ones with their life on the line — pretty much — and Kuroo was too preoccupied by Tooru’s threat about telling Sawamura everything about his blooming feelings to step off the court — furies had a comfortable stock of pride to sleep on. Which meant the only options left consisted only of Bokuto, Tanaka, and Sawamura.

“I’ll—” the latter started, but he was cut off almost immediately by Tanaka.

“You guys brought me here so that I could fulfill my dream. I think it’s about time I let someone else shine. I can always play later in the Underworld for fun, but you have something more important to save,” he declared.

The rest of the team fell silent.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sub out? I mean, I can play in the Underworld too, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” Sawamura offered despite knowing the other had already taken his decision.

Tanaka gave him a genuine smile and bumped his shoulder. “Your defense is stronger than mine and that’s what we need right now. You can always call me back later if you need me!”

Without looking back, he stepped to the bench and clapped his hand on Aone’s shoulder, pushing him toward the court.

“Oh, it seems Prometheus is in trouble and is trying to counterbalance their lack of experience. Is this new player going to be a secret weapon?” Zeus commented, his voice loud and clear, drawing all attention to him without him even trying.

The Underworld team did their best to ignore the nagging God. Tooru took a moment to study their opponents, Aristos —  _ the best _ , in ancient Greek. They were a mismatched team as well, made of individuals ranging from lesser nymphs to demigods, but they were a team that was used to playing together.

Still, that didn’t mean Prometheus could let them discourage them so easily. They had only lost the first set. They could still win.

“Alright guys,” Tooru spoke again, pulling the others closer in a circle. Tobio sent him an uncomfortable look when the mortal wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “We’re gonna make sure they can’t score. They’ll make mistakes, eventually. Don’t let them make you run around like a beheaded harpy.”

“There’s no way we’re letting them win,” Bokuto affirmed, his intense gaze reminding the others of his official nature of a deity of vengeance.

His eyes glowed golden, the pupils reduced to a single sport. Dark feathers had sprouted on his face, framing his jaws and giving him a dangerous look that was reminiscent of Kuroo’s previous demonstration of power.

Beside him, the other fury sported the same dangerous energy in his stance.

“Let’s show them,” he added when Zeus clapped his hands to announce the beginning of the next set.

With a new strategy and their defense reinforced by Aone, Prometheus managed to keep Aristos at bay for half of the game. The tragedy happened a few minutes after the Underworld scored the nineteenth point.

It was a tricky ball to receive, spiked by a demigod who was probably related to Ares, judging by his square shoulders and his muscles the size of a regular mortal’s head, and yet, Kuroo dove like his life depended on it. As soon as he touched the ground, two cracks followed each other, reverberating into the amphitheater, and a muffled growl escaped the fury’s lips.

“Connect!” he yelled when Bokuto made a move to join him. “Don’t let it drop!”

Kuroo’s features twisted in pain; the last thread of humanity in them vanished, revealing the full of his fury appearance.

On his words, Sawamura got the ball back in the air and Tobio made sure that their opponents wouldn’t touch the bullet he spiked, too preoccupied to even care about aiming. He put all his strength in the move and scored in the next second.

Around the court, the whole attendance was silent, all eyes on the fury’s silhouette laying on the ground. The only sound that could be heard was Kuroo panting and gasping for air, his eyelids shut tight and beads of sweat forming on his temples.

“What’s wrong?” Bokuto insisted, crouching beside his adoptive brother and securing the other fury’s arm over his shoulder to lift him up.

Tooru had once observed a crow poking at his injured mate and trying to get him to move from the spot on the ground where he lay, pecking at his feathers and cawing in despair. The scene happening on the court was strikingly similar, even in the way Bokuto moved around Kuroo, cautious and worried.

“I think it’s his wing,” Sawamura said, walking to the two furies without giving a second thought to the feline one’s appearance or his possible outburst of violence toward whoever would approach him.

For one second, Kuroo locked eyes with the formal mortal, his irises two storms that threatened to destroy everything on their way, the pupils reduced to slits, his fangs bared and his claws out. When he blinked again, his whole body regained a more normal aspect, and he forced a weak grin on his face.

“I think I broke something,” he said, glancing over his shoulder where part of his left wing hung loosely at an odd angle. “And I think I broke my left wrist too. But it’s just a wing, and I’m right-handed, so, I can keep on play—”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence that Sawamura’s voice was rising in Olympus, echoing on the columns and against the marble seats.

“Apollo!” he called, staring at the god without any trace of fear on his face. “You are the God of Healing. Please, take care of our teammate,” he begged, bowing in front of the stunned deity.

And yet… Yet, something didn’t add up.

Apollo was the God of Healing, yes. But he was also the God of curses. And from the way the corners of his lips twitched, Tooru wondered if the fury injuring both his wrist and wing really was an accident at all.

Like all Gods, Apollo was petty, and he didn’t like to be proven wrong, nor did he stand losing to anyone. Aristos was an elite team that he had recruited himself and shaped into what he was convinced was the best of the best. A prideful God like him couldn’t leave a bunch of nobodies humiliate him so easily.

“Bring him to me, I’ll make sure he’s alright,” the God nevertheless cooed, an indulgent smile upon his face. “Don’t think he’ll play again today, though,” Apollo shrugged, and at his side, his twin lifted a curious eyebrow.

“Hey, Tsukki!” Kuroo called, stopping Bokuto to point at the other who glared at them from his seat. “You’re replacing me. We can’t switch a mortal for a fury, so you better live up to my expectations!”

“I’ve already told you I’m not playing,” the raven one growled. “You should have taken better care of yourself instead of coming all the way here just to brag.”

Beside him, Tanaka let out an exclamation that sounded an awful lot like an insult, but he gathered himself before he spoke again, this time directly to Tsukishima.

“You know what? I agree with you, these guys are scary,” he declared, pointing at the Olympus team. “I can understand you not wanting to face them. After all, you’re only a fury, you don’t see much down there in the Underworld. We mortals are much more used to facing challenges.”

“You’re implying I’m  _ scared _ of these giant toddlers?” Tsukishima seethed, his feathers ruffling noisily.

“It’s okay if you’re scared,” Tooru continued, exchanging a quick glance with Tanaka as he did so. “We mortals can take care of them, you can keep on doing… whatever it is you were doing over there. Preening, perhaps? Well, I don’t need the details, anyway.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence that the raven fury was standing in front of him, bare centimeters separating them, eyes pitch black and arms ending with bird claws.

“I’m a  _ fury _ , I am  _ not _ scared of worthless mortals, and definitely not of these  _ peabrains _ ,” he hissed, pointing at the team on the other side of the net that collectively let out an offended gasp.

“Good, then,” Tooru grinned, stepping back and blessing the way his own instinct of survival had faded away since he had lost Hajime. “Now show them what a fury can do, birdie.”

* * *

In the grandstands, Apollo was busy tending to Kuroo’s wounds, a scowl on his face, mumbling to himself and cursing the mortals and all the Underworld crew for having him work extra hours. Insensible to his brother’s trouble, Artemis bent toward the fury that was sitting in Apollo’s seat, one eyebrow raised and a confused expression on their face.

“Say, why are you helping them?” the silver-haired twin asked Kuroo bluntly, pointing at the Underworld team with his chin. “Ain’t ya got anything better to do?”

Apollo frowned at his sibling’s voice and Kuroo winced when the God of the Sun pinched a painful part of his wing. Was this bastard doing it on purpose?

“We’re Prometheus,” the fury lilted nonetheless, a wicked grin slowly spreading on his face as he studied Artemis’ expression. “We stand with the mortals.”

His valid wing flapped Apollo’s face and the god hit the back of his seat with a groan.

“Sorry, reflex,” Kuroo feigned to apologize, twisting in the seat to have a look at the God, his eyes glinting coldly. “You may have touched a nerve.”

* * *

On the court, Tsukishima scored the last point of the second set, making it Prometheus’ victory out of sheer spite. He couldn’t stand most of his teammates, especially the newly self-declared captain, that obnoxious mortal who had somehow managed to wrap the entirety of the Underworld around his finger, but he could even less bear the way Olympus looked down on him. He was a fury, bound to the Underworld, not even a proper God — but that didn’t mean he was worth any less than these show-offs on the other side. Everybody just kept pissing him off.

“Alright, good job, guys! One more set and win the game!” Tooru congratulated his team, carefully avoiding looking at Tsukishima.

Beside him, the latter glared daggers, trying his best to catch his breath. “They’re  _ Aristos _ , how can you even believe you can win against them?! It’s obvious they’ll crush us in the next set.”

_ “It’s not worth the humiliation _ ,” he wanted to add, but he refrained from it, the memory of the mortal pulling on his wings, ready to tear them off, still fresh in his mind.

“You know,” the captain started, a fierce grin stretching across his lips. His eyes were as dark as Tartarus when he spoke, not even a glimmer of light visible in them. “Mortals were taught a lesson when the first woman, Pandora, was created…”

“Curiosity is dangerous?” Bokuto hazarded.

He was right, of course, this was the morale that most people kept from this story of old times — but to Tooru, it wasn’t the most important one.

A smile across his face, the mortal laughed, haughty and challenging, his gaze intense and frightening.

“When everything else is gone, there is always one thing left,” he announced, his voice loud enough for the whole attendance to hear him. “Hope.”

A loud laugh echoed from the grandstands and Tooru glared at Kuroo who took his sweet time to wipe a few tears off his eyes. Tooru didn’t miss the way Apollo cursed when the fury’s wing banged against his face again.

“Can you get any more sappy?” the cat-fury mocked.

“Am I wrong, though?” the other opposed, raising an eyebrow in a challenging expression.

Kuroo’s smile broadened. No, of course not.

* * *

The third set started almost immediately after Tooru’s declaration, and by the time half of the points had been scored, Prometheus was leading and Olympus asked for a time out. As soon as he saw the person Apollo called over, all the remaining colours drained from Tobio’s face.

“Hey, you’re not gonna faint, are you?” Sawamura worried, squeezing Charon’s shoulder with enough force to make the ferryman wince.

Immediately alerted, Tooru followed Tobio’s gaze to the grandstands where Kuroo was frowning at a short man half-hidden from view by the fury’s wings. The newcomer seemed to be a mortal, or at least if he wasn’t, he looked like he had been one. He was hardly taller than Hermes, and his face was framed with hair the colour of sunset.

“It’s Icarus,” Bokuto whispered beside Tooru, and even Sawamura muffled a pained exclamation at the news.

The wandering soul took a few steps back and nearly tripped over his own feet.

A wave of panic suddenly submerged the team and Tooru could only watch as his most reliable teammates sank into despair.

“Oh, I think some of you already know Shouyou!” Apollo feigned innocence, his smile never reaching his eyes. They gleamed with a pride that bore no limit. “I’ve never seen a guy so talented!” he continued, wrapping his arm around the smaller one’s shoulders in an almost possessive way.

Beside him, the red-haired mortal radiated with excitement, his eyes almost sparkling with pride and delight. He was such a ball of pure, raw energy that for a second Tooru couldn’t believe this was the man Tobio had given his heart and life to. The contrast was too big between them; they were complete opposites.

“That’s all thanks to your training, Atsumu-san!” the short one beamed, and then his look fell on the team he was about to face. “Oh, Daichi-san! Tobio! You’re here too!” he realised, his expression going from surprise to joy, to another, more challenging one that left Tooru confused.

“I’ll win, this time! You better be prepared!” Shouyou declared, pointing at Charon with the biggest smile.

In front of him, Tobio was unable to move, as if the world had suddenly stopped spinning and earth was trying to swallow him back into the pit of Tartarus. For one second he wished it was the case.

He watched as Shouyou stepped onto the court, confident, on the other side of the net. Even when he had heard about his passing away, Tobio had never felt like there was a world separating them, like something that he wouldn’t be able to overcome would stand between them. Not even death or the Underworld had gotten the best of his unwavering will. He had always been sure he would be able to reunite with Shouyou.

Even when Tobio had heard that he had chosen to be reincarnated, he had been convinced he would find a way to have his most precious friend back, to stand by his side one more time.

But it seemed Apollo had other plans for Icarus.

The next rallies happened as if in slow motion, Shouyou scoring an awful lot compared to his awkward teammates. He was swift as a river, running around like he was free, like he could bend gravity to his will, like he was blessed by the Gods — and he was, Tobio remembered.  _ Apollo _ had blessed him.

Shouyou jumped once more in front of the net, as if pulled by invisible wings, and the ball bounced on the floor right on Tobio’s left without him being able to do anything but stare at the man he had lost so many times.

A voice echoed, mocking, taunting, too unreal in Tobio’s dizzy mind.

“Looks like Icarus really is flying, now, huh?”

Shouyou landed on the ground again, his smile wide and sincere. “When we win, it’ll make fifty two wins and forty eight losses for me!” he declared.

He was wrong, though.

“Fifty five losses for me,” Tobio corrected absentmindedly, too disheartened to care about Tsukishima telling him that it wasn’t how math worked.

Shouyou had won fifty two times against Tobio, this much was true. But Tobio had also lost him thrice.

He had lost him as a mortal, when Icarus had sunk into the sea.

He had lost him as Charon, when Shouyou had chosen to be reborn.

_ (Dark brown eyes settled on the ferryman, merciless). _

And now, it felt like he had lost him to Apollo, too.

* * *

Bokuto served again; the ball flew over the net and slammed onto the ground, right where he knew his opponents couldn’t reach it. He let out a delighted hoot, calling for another ball, when Athena raised her hands.

“This one was out,” she called, her voice ice cold and sharp.

Her grey eyes fell on the fury, piercing, and he felt himself shrink under her gaze, his long wings folding behind his back as if he was fearing she would harm them.

“I’m fairly certain it was in,” Minos disagreed matter of factly, his voice calm as always. He should have thought better than to humiliate the Goddess, and he realised his mistake as soon as the last word slipped out of his mouth.

The Goddess turned to him, her eyes like steel. “So what you mean is, you’re fairly certain that I, Pallas Athena, am wrong?”

Akaashi stiffened ostensibly under the weight of her threat. He darted a glance at the place where the ball had bounced off the ground.

It was in. He was certain it was in.

But if he told so, he would probably not see another day.

He glanced at Bokuto again, who was staring at him wide-eyed, holding his breath.

But if he told Athena she was wrong,  _ Bokuto _ might not see another day.

“My apologies, Pallas Athena,” the judge said, looking down at his feet. “My eyes aren’t as sharp as yours. The ball was out.”

* * *

The match went on, Prometheus only scoring thanks to the combination of Aone’s solid blocks, Bokuto’s unwavering ferocity and Tooru’s fierce determination. Tsukishima played only for the sake of playing. Tobio was mentally out of order, and Sawamura kept being a fraction of second too late, once again devoured by guilt, to the point Tanaka switched places with him around the twentieth point.

“Tobio, I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but you’re not going to get him back like this,” Tooru eventually snapped when the setter failed another toss and the ball bounced on the ground between them.

“I’m not going to get him back at all,” was all the other could say, painfully glaring at the God of the Sun who was watching from the sideline, pleased with his little trick.

Not far from him, Hermes was sitting cross-legged, his eyes like a hawk’s on its prey, his lips curved upward. He refused to miss one second of the match and of the altercations. Maybe bringing Icarus in had been his idea, after all — he was the trickster God, and a good friend of Apollo’s.

“Do you really think losing will place you in Apollo’s favors at all?!” Tooru seethed in a low tone, grabbing Charon by the collar of his chiton and getting his attention away from the Gods. “You should think better of this. This guy,” and he pointed at Shouyou without any hesitation, “isn’t holding a grudge against you. Start doing the same and play like you mean it!”

Another voice rose near them, a round face appearing in between the squares of the mesh.

“Tobio? Are you okay? You’ve been pretty weird, today,” Shouyou intervened, tangling his fingers into the net to get a better look at the ferryman. “I really like playing against you, but it’s no fun if you’re not giving it your best,” he continued.

There was a pout in his voice, and yet his expression was scarily serious, no trace of amusement showing on his juvenile features.

When he was sure Tobio’s full attention was on Icarus, Tooru uncurled his fist from the other’s chiton, slowly, carefully. It looked like his speech had fired Charon up again, though, and when he turned to Icarus, the ferryman was standing tall and proud.

“I’m going to win, and then I’ll get you back, dumbass!” he yelled, his fists clenched into balls at his sides, his voice echoing on the marble around, followed by a silence.

Icarus blinked a few times, and a smile finally stretched his lips, crinkling his eyes.

“That’s already more like you!”

* * *

The ball was light, willing to escape, the membrane tense and smooth under Tooru’s fingers. He spinned it between his hands, listening to the noise it made as it brushed against his palms. He stopped the motion.

It was Prometheus’ match point. If he scored, he would win it all.

He didn’t think about Kuroo and Sawamura watching him on the bench.

He didn’t think about Tobio’s attention focused on the ball, and on Shouyou.

He didn’t think about Bokuto cheering for him, or about that brown haired-girl whom he knew was smiling at him behind his back.

He threw the ball into the air, his eyes following its curve.

One step. Two steps.

He took flight, unaware of his surroundings, the ground a bare memory.

His palm slammed against the ball.

He forgot how to breathe.

_ Hajime _ .

The ball crashed on a dryad’s arms and flew back into the air, between two marble columns and off into the clouds.

Slowly, the noises flowed back to his ears. Cheers, laughs, cries, gasps.

Air poured back in his lungs.

Bokuto pulled him into a bone crushing hug and Tanaka ruffled his hair. Even Tobio approached him, only to be swallowed by the owl-fury’s fierce embrace.

From above the fury’s shoulder, Tooru saw the girl again. She looked like a young teenager, her light brown curls bouncing as she winked at the mortal, a fierce smile on her lips. He had no doubt she was way older than that her appearance led to think.

“I told you I would be on your side,” the Goddess said, and only then did Tooru remember that she was the one he had dreamt about, the one he had chased and who had fallen backward over the edge of the amphitheater, flying over the court, smiling like she had won everything.

Of course, she would.

The Goddess walked to him, and he knelt down so that she could place her laurel wreath on his head. When he stood up again, Nike was grinning at him.

“You really had me scared at some point, you know!” she laughed. “I thought I had picked the wrong team!”

“Akane-chan! Come here and celebrate with us!” Aphrodite called her in Hajime’s voice. She turned to Ares, motioning him to come closer. “Hey, Kyoutani! Pay up!”

The young girl let out another laugh, squeezing Tooru’s hand one last time, and then the Goddess of Victory strode away among the crowd of Gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised I made a [reference sheet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28938573/chapters/71004945) for people who might be confused/curious about who which deity is supposed to be represented as. I'll keep it at the end of the series as a kind of glossary!


	14. The Underworld has never been so alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match against Olympus is over. They've won, which means the Gods have no excuses not to give Hajime back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Just a quick update: the rating of the fic changed to M due to light nsfw!

The ovation coming from the stands was louder than Zeus’ thunder. It didn’t fade until long after the match had ended. Some Olympians immediately disappeared, others remained to celebrate the victory of a team they didn’t even know nor care about — after all, the Gods didn’t need a reason to feast.

Tooru’s gaze wandered around, his chest aching from the sudden loneliness that washed over him. Everybody was happy, and he was too, in a way… But he wouldn’t be complete until he’d be back in the Underworld, able to hold Hajime in his arms and to make sure he was safe and sound.

His eyes caught the movement of two long wings, ash and snow and sand as Bokuto moved around, caught in his happiness. He was chatting with Akaashi whose collected attitude didn’t diminish the smile that was playing on his lips.

“Did you see the way the ball flew all the way to the other side?” the owl-fury exulted, his eyes sparkling with genuine bliss.

He looked like a kid who had just achieved something for the very first time and was mesmerized by his success.

“I did, Bokuto-san,” Minos chuckled softly.

Tooru would never have thought Minos, the third judge of the dead, to be of such good company. Yet it was obvious to anyone that Akaashi was as fond of Bokuto as the fury was of him. Every time Akaashi smiled, Bokuto’s energy pulsed like a newborn star, radiating through the crowd.

Bokuto’s pure grin was truly contagious and it made Tooru feel a bit better, even though it wasn’t directed to him.

His heart already a little lighter, the mortal let his eyes drift away from the duo, only to find another pair of wings not far away, these ones dark and as soft as fur.

As soon as Kuroo spotted him, Tooru raised an eyebrow, a teasing light playing in his eyes. The fury had both his arms wrapped around Sawamura, pulling him into a tight hug, and judging by the way the former mortal grinned, both of them were clearly enjoying the situation. Kuroo folded his valid wing around Sawamura, concealing them from sight, but Tooru didn’t miss Kuroo’s grin as he did so. His brows cried threat, but his grin and his eyes screamed happiness.

Behind them, the Gods were busy laughing and getting wasted and Tooru had the nagging feeling that something was missing. Something important, that he should be aware of…

He caught a flash of darkness swirling up from the corner of his eyes, close to a flame.

Ah, right. Tobio and Icarus.

“But they won! You could at least recruit him!” the shorter one whined, and from the tone of his voice, Tooru was surprised not to find him tugging on Apollo’s chiton.

In front of them, the God of the Sun was glaring daggers at Charon, his body positioned so that he faced his protégé only. He really did hate that ferryman, didn’t he?

“Charon can’t make it to Olympus anyway, so it’s out of the question,” the God shrugged.

His brows were furrowed deep. He looked like he was about to swat them away like annoying flies buzzing around his ears.

“Then, let me go with him,” Shouyou declared.

He stood tall, for a man of his stature, and Tooru couldn’t help but stare at him.

Everybody was drawn to Shouyou like moths to a flame. He was as bright as the Sun that had caused his downfall, and people couldn’t help but want to keep him close, to bask in his presence. No wonder why Apollo wanted to keep him by his side — even the God hadn’t been able to resist him.

“I can’t, there’s the contract,” Apollo started, but Shouyou didn’t waver.

He stared at the God without showing any fear. Maybe the flame wasn’t a good comparison, after all. He didn’t flicker: he radiated, blinding.

“We lost. I won’t be of any worth to you if I can’t even bring you victory.”

Apollo sighed and averted his gaze. He looked about to surrender when Charon intervened.

“What about he goes with me and trains in the Underworld? Two thirds of the year with us, and he plays for Aristos in the official matches,” the ferryman offered without glancing at his companion.

His fist was shaking at his side, the knuckles as white as bones.

“But, Tobio, I thought—” Icarus began, but he was cut off by his friend, or whatever Tobio was to him.

“You can’t recruit me, and I won’t give up on this dumbass either,” the other claimed, pointing at Shouyou without taking his eyes off a flabbergasted Apollo. “So two thirds of the year with me, one third up here. And every year we play against each other here for the big match.”

Eventually, he allowed himself to flick a look at Shouyou. Tooru couldn’t see the expression on Icarus’ face from where he stood, but the latter nodded with such enthusiasm that it made no doubt he was smiling.

Someone sighed near Tooru, catching his attention, and he didn’t need to look to know who was standing beside him, hands folded in their chitons like it had pockets.

“Does he really think the situation’s fun? Man, going up and down is exhausting.”

“At least he gets the two thirds,” Tooru countered, quickly glancing at Persephone who stiffened. “I know someone who’s not as lucky.”

The Goddess let out another sigh.

“I take it Issei complained to you as well. I swear he will never get over it.”

The corners of their lips turned upwards and Tooru couldn’t help but speak the question he had been dying to ask for the past few days.

“Speaking of him, did he really trap you with pomegranates?”

Takahiro flicked him a quick glance before pretending to find interest in the not so discreet way Hermes was trying to steal her shield from Athena.

“He thought he was being slick with his stupid plan. I wouldn’t have eaten the fruits if I hadn’t known it’d bind me to him. Still lost it with the one third of the year only, but at least it’s something.”

“Oh tell me about it,” Apollo groaned, coming over to them and running a hand over his face. He looked exhausted.

“You look like someone who’s spent too long out in the sun,” Persephone mocked, their eyes glinting coldly as the other God approached.

“Don’t ya have flowers to grow or something?” Apollo grunted, not able to think of anything better to retort.

In front of them, Tooru had the awful impression of being stuck in a big family reunion. He was half expecting a drunk aunt to join them when Aphrodite wrapped an arm around him, pulling him to her chest — well, to Hajime’s chest, but it definitely didn’t have the same feeling as the real one.

“So, you won, after all!” she cheered. Hajime’s face was flushed and Tooru shoved the Goddess off him with a scowl.

“Of course I did,” he huffed, eyeing Aphrodite to make sure she kept her distance. “There was no way I’d leave Hajime in the Underworld.”

He made sure to put the emphasis on his lover’s name, staring into Aphrodite’s eyes. She may have his exact appearance, she was way too out of character for the mortal to feel anything for her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like this!” she growled, but her expression was more amused than mad. “I don’t pick the way people see me, you’re the one to blame for being so in love with your guy that you make me look like him!”

Her lips curled into a mocking smile as she continued.

“Actually, he gives me the same offended look whenever he sees me. You two really are something,” she burst out laughing before she let out a long sigh. “Too bad my powers don’t work on my kin, I would have loved to know what I would have looked like to Apollo,” she added, a dangerous light flickering in her eyes as she turned to the God of the Sun.

The latter shivered but he chose to ignore the remark the same way Tooru chose to ignore the teasing, taunting expression on Aphrodite-as-Hajime’s face. The more he looked at the Goddess, the more unsettling it got — and the more he desperately needed to drag everyone back down to the Underworld.

“Y’know,” Apollo eluded, eyeing Tooru with a crooked smirk that was tensed at the corners. “I’m glad you won, somehow. It was entertaining. And that means I didn’t waste a blessing on some useless mortal. I hate it when they don’t live up to my expectations.”

“Are you implying Icarus was a waste of your power?” Tooru couldn’t help but ask, not missing the way the God winced at the accusation. “You blessed him too, right?”

The other’s gaze drifted back to the short mortal. He was joking around with Charon who feigned to be angry at him.

“I did,” Apollo admitted after a while, thoughtful. “I don’t think it was a waste, though.”

A snicker escaped Aphrodite’s lips and she clapped her hand on Apollo’s shoulders, sighing again as she walked away, a smile across her face. “I’m suuuuch a busy Goddess! I can’t rest even when I come home!”

“I hate it when she does that,” Tooru and Apollo hissed at the same time, raising an eyebrow at each other.

Tooru had meant using Hajime’s appearance with this attitude, but before he could tease Apollo with the brand new blackmail material he had acquired, the God of the Sun disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Man, he really doesn’t like being exposed,” Persephone snickered, eyeing Tooru like he was an old friend and they were sharing a private joke. “Anyway, time to leave! Spring is tomorrow and I can’t afford to be late. I suppose you’ve been  _ dying _ to go back, huh?”

Tooru arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching as he suppressed a laugh. “Are the bad puns necessary?”

“I think Issei rubbed off on me. Don’t you  _ dare _ smile at that. Mortals have such bad humor, I swear!” the Goddess sighed theatrically.

The grin settled on their face, proud, their eyes sparkling with playfulness, and they pushed the mortal back to the marble stairs.

* * *

Hades hated that part of the Underworld. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t even sure he knew where he was going. It was at the very edge of his kingdom, so far away from Elysium that light barely reached the place. It was unwelcoming, and he wasn’t wanted, but he had to make sure that there would be no issue left.

Not that he was doing this for anyone — not for Tooru or Hajime or Takahiro. Okay, right. Maybe he was doing it for them.

They owed him a serious one.

His feet carried him farther into the oppressive darkness. When he kept on walking and couldn’t hear his own footsteps anymore, he knew he was close.

His arms extended in front of him, he moved forward until his palm hit a cold wall. There he was.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Sakusa!” Issei immediately greeted the other God, unaffected by the coldness of his tone or the stare that would have pushed anyone else to walk away. “Listen, I’ve got an issue only you can solve—”

“I don’t have time for this,” Thanatos cut him off as he walked past Hades without a second glance.

Issei stepped forward, following the other into his cave before he lost track of him, and he was propelled into another atmosphere.

He wasn’t sure anyone else had ever seen Thanatos’ quarters, but now he regretted that he had never bothered paying the guy a visit before. He hadn’t been expecting to fall in love with the place at first sight.

The walls were smooth, carefully carved into stone and dotted with chiseled crystals that glowed light blue in the darkness. There weren’t many furnitures, for Death never sleeps, but Thanatos had a whole collection of scrolls that Hades was sure were kept in perfect condition. In the middle of the room were only a table and a small seat from which the God of Death was staring at his visitor.

“Wait, is this really where you live?” the Ruler of the Underworld gaped. “I was expecting more… dead things.”

“You’re the one with the dead things, Hades,” the other countered, impatience piercing through his tone and his face twisting in disgust. “So. What do you want from me?”

Issei ignored him for a moment to shoot another look around. He took the first scroll he could reach and unrolled it to study its content, only stopping when Thanatos clicked his tongue and snatched it away. He quickly rolled the object back and put it in his original spot, his dark eyes glaring daggers at the annoying God.

“Hmmm, you see—”

“ _ Don’t touch this _ ,” Thanatos warned when Issei reached out for another scroll.

One eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face, Hades brought both his hands behind his back like a good child.

“You see,” he repeated, extremely amused by Sakusa’s reactions. His gaze followed the other as he took his spot back on the seat. “There might be a chance that I’ll need to let two souls leave the Underworld in the foreseeable future.”

“And why should I care, Hades?”

“Well, you’re the God of Death. I wouldn’t like you to bring them back as soon as you spot them out, you know?”

Sakusa let out a sigh, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose before he looked up at Hades again.

“This isn’t my job. I only allow mortals to die, this is all that I do.” He spoke in short sentences, as if explaining something to a very simple-minded person. “It’s Hermes who guides them to the Underworld. And Cerberus who chases the ones who attempt to run away. Whatever it is you do with your residents is none of my business.”

“I know all of that, but I figured I should warn you,” Issei huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping the friendly look. “If they make it out of here, you keep your powers off these two for the next ten years at least.”

His eyes remained on Thanatos, relentless. He detailed his wings, wide and as dark as the deepest depths of Tartarus; his matching set of eyes. Blue light caught on his refined features, casting shadows on his cheekbones, and for a second, Hades found himself admitting that Death was, indeed, handsome. Almost as handsome as his own partner. But where Thanatos marked the end of an existence, Persephone was the essence of blooming life and everything beautiful in the upper world.

“I will try to keep them untouched,” Sakusa eventually consented, articulating slowly.

Issei didn’t know why Sakusa was doing him the favour this time. Perhaps loneliness wasn’t a stranger to Death either, and to this, Hades could relate.

“There’s another game, next week,” the God of the Underworld prompted when he was about to leave the place. “It’s the Asphodels against Prometheus, I believe. They’re really good. You should come and watch with us, some time. I mean, Death can’t scare people who have already passed away, right?”

A mere  _ hmph _ was all the answer he got, but Hades was pretty sure he had made a new friend.

* * *

“Hades! You’re late!” the mortal’s voice greeted him as soon as the God was close enough.

He was alone with Persephone, the rest of the team having already parted for the night.

Even from where he stood, Hades could tell that Tooru was dripping with sweat. His hair was sticking to his skull and his chiton was two shades darker than it had been when he had left for Olympus. From the way he stood, his legs must have been aching from the amount of exercise… Therefore, Issei didn’t get how the mortal could put so much energy into the glare he was sending him.

He flicked an inquisitive look to Persephone who only replied with an amused grin.

“ _ Good luck with putting up with Mister Give-Me-My-Guy-Back here,” _ they seemed to mock.

There was something shining in their eyes that was terribly close to pride, a feeling that Issei had never seen on his lover’s face in the half eternity they had spent together.

Hades scrunched his nose and a laidback grin floated upon his lips.

“So I take it from the face you’re making that he won, huh?”

Before Takahiro could even say a word, Tooru drew all the attention to him once again, placing his hand on his hips and staring at the God of the Underworld.

“Told you we would,” he bragged, cracking a smug grin at the God. “But now, you’ve got to honour your part of the pact. Let me see Hajime and let us go back to the mortal realm,” he continued.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by a cold stare. There was a sparkle of challenge dancing in them, as if the mortal was daring him to even consider cheating. Coming from any other person, Hades would have shoved the impertinent mortal in the nearest river with his own two hands.

Persephone shifted their weight behind the mortal, a frown creasing their forehead as they exchanged a look with their husband.

“Maybe it would be better if you waited until tomorrow,” Hades began, raising his voice at the end as if asking a question. There was an edge to his voice that Tooru couldn’t explain. He didn’t like it, though.

Behind him, out of sight, Persephone stirred uncomfortably.

“You’ve already spent a lot of energy today, and the trip back up isn’t an easy one,” the Goddess confirmed in the same tone, visibly tensing when Tooru turned around to frown at them. “You should probably take some time to rest and recharge.”

“You could take a bath before you go back to Hajime,” Hades offered, raising an eyebrow, his nose wrinkling slightly. “No offense but I’ve seen carrions that smelt better than you.”

Tooru took a step back as if the God had punched him. He ran a hand through his hair and winced as he realised how greasy it was. Yet, he didn’t like the idea of Gods doing him favours, no matter how much said Gods seemed to be under his spell.

“If you think I’m stupid enough to go skinny-dipping in the river Lethe, you’ve got the wrong mortal,” he warned. “It’s nearly been one year since I lost Hajime. Don’t think I’m gonna waste even one more second of my life without him.”

In front of him, Hades huffed. From the face he made, he was probably questioning all the choices he had made so far.

“Hiro, don’t you have anything you could give him to help with that scent? If he goes to his guy like that, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna pass out at first breath.”

Tooru forced a laugh.

“I’d hate to give you more paperwork,” he scoffed, but the Gods were no longer paying him any attention.

“What are you taking me for?” Persephone started, crossing their arms over their chest defensively. “A grandma? I’m the  _ Goddess of Spring _ , not Aphrodite. I can’t snap my fingers and  _ poof, _ he’s all clean.”

“What about lavender? I’m pretty sure you had some with you the other day…”

In front of them, the mortal stopped listening. He looked around, desperate to find where they were keeping Hajime. An ominous voice in his mind was debating how different he would be from the Hajime who had left the port on that fateful day. Would he even remember him? What if the Gods had tricked him? He didn’t have any proof that he would get him safe and sound, save for Hades’ word. But a God’s word was rarely equal to the truth, all mortals knew that.

The couple was still in the middle of an argument. Thorns were growing out of the fertile soil around Persephone, some of the branches blooming flowers and then fruits. Tooru’s stomach growled at the sight but he knew better than to give in to the temptation. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“If you’re done arguing, I’d really appreciate it if you took me to Hajime before I die of old age,” he reminded the Gods, glaring at them with impatience.

Hades sighed in resignation. “Okay, let’s go. He’s—”

“But  _ first _ ,” Tooru insisted, his jaws clenching painfully. “First, I want you to give me proof that you’re not gonna trap us here. And a proof that Hajime is exactly like he was when he was still alive.”

“You really don’t trust us, huh?” Persephone pointed out, raising an eyebrow. They shrugged and a smug smile settled on their face. “Can’t blame you.”

Hades growled something unintelligible under his breath. In spite of all, his expression turned grave and he dropped his usual laid-back attitude to look at Tooru.

“Okay, listen. We’re  _ not _ trying to trap anyone here. We just want to make sure that you make it up there safely.”

“Yeah, we’d hate to have you back here after one day,” Persephone intervened, a smile playing at the corners of their lips.

“Lastly,” Hades continued without a pause. “I swear on the river Styx that your lover, Iwaizumi Hajime, is alive and unharmed and unaffected by any type of magic, illness or side-effect of death. I swear that he will be returned to you in a few minutes and that you two will be allowed to leave the Underworld together. You can stay in the Underworld to rest for the night. You will be safe and we’ll make sure to provide you food that isn’t from my kingdom. You mortals sure are troublesome,” he concluded, eventually cracking a smile.

“He swore on the river Styx,” Persephone insisted. “Even Gods can’t break such an oath without facing immense consequences. You’ll be fine.”

The mortal nonetheless took a moment to turn the words around in his mind, scanning for any kind of trick that the Gods could have up their sleeves. When he couldn’t find anything shady, he let out a resigned sigh.

“Alright. Now tell me where I can find Hajime.”

“Oh he’s been in your tent the whole time,” Hades admitted, his grin widening. “Cerberus was probably keeping him company.”

“And you tell me only  _ now! _ ” Tooru blurted out in disbelief.

He looked around to find the right direction and strode away without looking back. He didn’t notice Persephone’s magic on him, but his chiton was dry and his hair clean by the time he reached the tent, leaving a scent of jasmine on his trail.

Issei sent his lover a smug look.

“It’s just a tiny blessing,” Persephone shrugged, cracking a smile when the other kept staring. “Oh don’t give me that look, I can feel your blessing on the other one from here. You’re protecting him from this place.”

Issei shrugged dismissively. “His essence is still a bit weak, I don’t want him to go vanishing. We’d have Tooru to deal with for the next centuries and of course I’d have to bear with him alone two thirds of the time. It’s not worth the risk.”

He grinned and Takahiro mirrored his expression, their eyes softening when they met the others. “We should go home, anyway. Our job here is done!” they declared, theatrically throwing the flowy fabric of their outfit as a cape.

“But you didn’t do anything,” the other sniggered, following them to their palace.

Issei quickened his pace until he was at Takahiro’s side.

“It’s your last night here,” Issei prompted, glancing at his partner.

Their hands brushed against each other, but neither of them slowed down.

Takahiro didn’t even look at him to reply, but they lifted an eyebrow, lips stretching into a smile. “Yup. Good thing we’ve got the palace for ourselves.”

* * *

He was running like there was no tomorrow because there hadn’t been any yesterdays in months. The sole of his feet hit the rocky ground without mercy, unwilling to listen to his muscles’ cries of pain. He ran on adrenaline rather than on oxygen, panting and coughing, but none of this mattered. His legs didn’t falter even once. He was going to have Hajime back.

The outline of the tent stood out upon the line of horizon, and he doubled his pace.

_ Please, don’t be a trick. Please, don’t be a trap. _

He wouldn’t bear his last hopes being crushed by a cruel joke.

Tooru rushed forward, shoving the fabric door of his shelter out of the way, and froze as soon as he was inside. Hajime was standing there, his back to him. He looked over his shoulder at the sudden noise and his eyes widened when he realised who had barged in like they had Thanatos himself on their heels.

“Tooru—” he started, turning around. All the air was knocked out of his lungs when his boyfriend crashed into him, nearly making them both topple over.

Tooru’s lips smashed against Hajime’s, his fingers digging into the muscles of his arms. It was pressing, desperate. It tasted like salt and like loss, and Hajime immediately wrapped his arms around Tooru to calm him down.

“Hey... Hey, I’m alright. I’m alive. Tooru, you did it, you brought me back,” he whispered when his boyfriend broke the kiss to hug him tight, like he was afraid someone was going to take Hajime away from him.

Hajime kept him close, his eyelids shut and his breath aching as they both processed what was happening and all that they had been through.

“For one second I thought I had lost you for good,” Tooru cried against his shoulders, each word costing him more than the last.

He squeezed Hajime’s back as if he was his lifeline and Hajime mirrored his touch, pressing himself against Tooru’s chest until he could feel every muscle and every bone against his. Unlike Tooru’s, his mind was clear, but that didn’t keep him from feeling the pain radiating from the other.

Against him, Tooru was shaking. It had nearly been one year. One long terrible year of grieving for one and of nothingness for the other.

Hajime placed a soft kiss on Tooru’s jaw, the only part of him he could reach without pulling away from the other’s grip.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he whispered against his ear.

“Don’t you dare make me do this again,” Tooru cried through clenched teeth, nuzzling his face against Hajime’s neck.

A soft chuckle escaped the other’s lips. “I’m not planning to.”

Silence settled again, only broken by Tooru’s shaky breaths every now and then. Hajime traced circles on Tooru’s back until he was sure he had completely calmed down, whispering soothing words into his ear, telling him how much all that he had done meant to him — how much  _ he  _ meant to him.

Eventually, Tooru relaxed his grip on the other and laced his fingers around Hajime’s waist. They had danced like this, years ago, and the fond memory made Tooru laugh in the intimate quietness.

“What?” Hajime asked softly, pushing on Tooru’s shoulders so that he could get a better look at his face.

In the candle lit atmosphere, Tooru’s eyes shone amber, and Hajime’s heart skipped a beat when they locked on his.

“Nothing, I just remembered that I love you.”

Hajime laughed. “You better love me when I’ve had to put up with Aphrodite looking exactly like you for the past days. Trust me, it wasn’t a great experience. She was almost as unbearable as you, but to be honest, I’d rather have the real Tooru with me,” he added, softer.

“I sure hope so!” the other couldn’t help but joke, a pout on his face that he only managed to keep for half a second.

His laugh died down when Hajime brushed his lips against his cheek, his touch barely a caress. It was a declaration, an invitation, and a question all at once. The answer was as simple, a three words sentence.

Hajime placed soft kisses on his boyfriend’s jaws, down his neck, following his throat and the growing pulse of his heart. He stopped above his collarbone, smiling against Tooru’s skin when the other shuddered under his touch. He had missed this, the way Tooru reacted to the tiniest shift in his position, the way he leant in whenever Hajime pulled apart for the briefest second.

Tooru’s hand brushed the nape of Hajime’s neck, bringing him up again, and his eyes were a puddle of liquid fire in the flickering light of the flame. He gazed at his boyfriend for one long second before he closed the few millimeters still separating them.

If Hajime’s kisses were soft and loving, Tooru’s were intense and yearning. He needed to know Hajime was there again; needed to know he was his again.

His free hand slipped through the slit in the side of Hajime’s chiton, tracing the outline of his ribs, following the muscles of his back. He pulled him so close that he could feel Hajime’s heart beating against his rib cage, echoing the loud thuds of his own. Whispers and names and moans alike resonated through their chests as air became a mere fantasy.

“I missed this,” Tooru panted between two kisses, his eyelids kept closed to drown in every sensation.

Hajime’s lips curled into a smirk under his jaw. “Missed what?”

He gave him only half a second to answer before he made his boyfriend’s thoughts melt away again.

Tooru miraculously managed to cling onto enough lucidity to build a coherent sentence.

“You. All of you,” he whispered before their lips found each other again and their tongues mingled.

Hajime’s hand followed Tooru’s chest until it met the leather string that kept the chiton shut around his waist. He pulled on it slowly, and the contact of the rope as it slided against his skin was almost unbearable to Tooru.

Hajime pushed on Tooru’s shoulders to unpin the brooch Tooru had made for him so long ago, the last thing that kept the cloth in place, and tossed it into the open satchel a few feets away. The chiton flowed down Tooru's body as if made of silk.

As soon as it was out of the way, Hajime’s lips found his lover’s again. Tooru’s bare skin was burning hot under his fingers, and his hands on Hajime’s body were pure fire licking his skin. Tooru pulled him closer even, his hand firm on the small of Hajime’s back. He slipped it lower, cupping his boyfriend’s butt without any warning, and a devilish grin stretched Tooru’s lips when Hajime let out a throaty groan and pressed himself closer, grinding against him.

Tooru kissed the corners of his boyfriend’s lips, tender and soft, putting their rush to a stop, much to the other’s frustration. He gazed at Hajime through heavy lidded eyes as he got down to his knees, never breaking the contact, his eyes locked on the other’s and his hands following his move.

He pushed the fabric aside to press a kiss on Hajime’s hipbone, savouring the way the other shivered at the touch. Under his lips, he could feel blood pulsing as he brushed the sensitive skin of his lover’s inner thigh, his fingers sensually following the movement, making it last until Hajime couldn’t think anymore.

Eventually, Tooru took Hajime’s wrist in his hand and placed a kiss there, dragging him to the ground and onto the soft fabric of his chiton. Hajime was quick to get rid of his own clothes, throwing everything into a corner without looking back.

He wrapped his arms around Tooru’s shoulders, his heart racing for so many reasons, and let him set the pace as they kissed again without anything holding them back.

Tooru traced every line of Hajime’s body with his finger tips, lingering where he knew Hajime was the most ticklish. He paused to smirk when the other laughed, relishing in the sound that had for one year become a memory only.

Every bone, every muscle was as familiar as ever. Every curve and every move was engraved in Tooru’s muscle memory. He knew every inch of it. He knew every taste of it.

Hajime muffled a moan against his mouth when Tooru took them both in his hand, stroking gently, rubbing the most sensitive spots like he used to do whenever he wanted to tease his lover. He kept it so slow that it was almost painful, his touch echoing the months they had spent apart, all this time spent without any promise of ever being reunited again.

Hajime whispered into his ear until he could no longer form words, his nails digging into the skin of Tooru’s back, his teeth leaving marks wherever he could. The pain and the pleasure were proof that they were alive, and  _ oh Gods, they were both alive. _

He arched against Tooru as a cry escaped his lips, murmuring words of encouragement until Tooru fell over the edge as well.

“I’m never letting go of you ever again,” Tooru eventually declared, resting his forehead against Hajime’s. It was barely a whisper, but it was a promise he intended to keep.

As a response, Hajime’s hand slid to the nape of his neck, his fingers tangling in Tooru’s curls, keeping him as close as possible. There was no way he would give up on him either.

After a while, Tooru placed a tender kiss on his lips, and reached out to wipe themselves clean with the fabric he had tossed away.


	15. A family found in the darkest place

Hajime and Tooru were granted only ten minutes of peaceful cuddles before the first inconvenience showed up at their door.

“Oya, are you done in there?” a familiar voice called, and Kuroo stepped into the tent sporting a smirk that was even larger than usual. “I thought you’d need some water and food,” he snickered. “They’re from the upper world, obviously.”

He theatrically stopped in the entrance to stare down at the two men on the ground, a plate of grapes and amphoras in precarious balance in his arms. Tooru blinked sleep away, groaning at the sudden irruption. He sat up, a scowl on his face, and beside him Hajime’s face turned a dark shade of red. He brought his knees to his chest, sending a curious gaze at the fury, then glanced at Tooru to see the reaction he adopted. Hajime recognized the guy from the Prometheus team, but he couldn’t tell whether the creature was a friend or a foe.

He relaxed as soon as he noticed the sulky expression on Tooru’s face.

“Can’t you guys give us a little _privacy_?!” the latter growled, glaring daggers at the fury.

Kuroo snorted, crouching to drop the plate on the mortal’s laps without any delicacy. “You’re talking about privacy like the whole Underworld hasn’t heard you make _that noise_.”

His smile stretched wider, showing his fangs, when a heavy blush tinted Tooru’s skin. Kuroo dodged the dirty cloth the mortal threw his way with a warm, sonorous laugh, and Bokuto whined behind him when it landed too close to his liking.

“Hey, watch out!” he exclaimed, sending a distrustful look at what had once been a chiton. He cleared his throat and brought his attention back to Tooru when he spoke again, yet he couldn’t help but flick curious glances to Hajime. “So, um, we figured you’d like fresh clothes and new sandals for when you leave tomorrow,” he continued, pointing at the fabrics he had carried all the way to the tent.

His lips quivered and he carefully put the chitons down on the ground near Tooru, who immediately tossed one onto his boyfriend’s laps. Then, Tooru put his attention back on the two furies, tilting his head to one side to study them, absolutely unbothered by his nakedness.

“And you couldn’t wait until next morning, because…?” he prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“You really were going to sleep like that?” Kuroo immediately replied, crunching his nose at the sweaty mess that the mortal was in front of him.

At the same time, Bokuto let out a melancholic sigh. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. I had become used to this. Actually, we were scared you were gonna leave without saying goodbye,” he admitted, looking Tooru in the eyes.

Beside him, Kuroo fell silent, his gaze on the mortal he now thought of as his friend..

Tooru’s eyes widened in surprise. The furies were _really_ going to miss _him_ , a mere mortal who had come all this way only to get someone back? He stared at the two of them in disbelief, the cat and the owl, who had taken him under their wings — both figuratively and literally — when he had arrived, and who had been there for him on and off the court throughout the entirety of his stay. His heart clenched slightly at the thought that it was probably the last time he would see them.

Nonetheless, he forced a light smile upon his face, a fake sounding laugh leaving his lips and earning him a frown from Hajime that he dutifully ignored.

“Awww, you guys are gonna miss me! How embarrassing!” Tooru mocked.

Kuroo shrugged, averting the mortal’s gaze.

“We’ll see you again someday,” he pointed out, his voice grim. His eyes fell back on Tooru, dark and grave. “Make sure it doesn’t happen any time soon. Both of you.”

Tooru cracked a smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry, we’ll be old geezers by that time. We’ll be too boring for volleyball.”

The other fury shifted his weight uncomfortably, fidgeting with his fingers in the same way Tooru had seen Minos do earlier. His lips curved into a soft smile — Bokuto had probably picked the behaviour from the other man.

“Actually, the Underworld will have you keep the appearance you want,” the owl fury intervened, his wings fluttering behind him as if the thought of playing with Tooru again made him happy. “So you could still play with us if you wanted to... Hajime could even try it,” he continued, glancing at the other mortal who nodded with a soft smile. “But Kuroo is right, you better stay up there longer than Persephone,” Bokuto concluded with a sad smile.

Silence settled once more under the tent, only broken by the sound of Cerberus patrolling around. The guardian of the gates had somehow left his post to become the personal guardian of the mortals, it seemed, but at least he had stopped talking about Elysium, and Tooru was glad for it.

“So, are you guys going to stay here and watch us sleep, or…?” Tooru asked, raising an eyebrow at the two furies.

Hajime intervened before they could reply. He flicked a quick glance at his lover, holding the chiton in front of him, and then his gaze settled on the winged silhouettes that faced them.

“I suppose it’s more of an Olympus thing, but… Do you throw parties in the Underworld? Since we’re leaving tomorrow, it could be nice to have one. So that you guys can say goodbye to Tooru,” he offered, repressing a yawn.

He was a bit guilty to come up with this idea when Tooru was probably dying to close his eyes and get some rest, but Hajime couldn’t stand the look in the furies’ eyes, and he had the feeling that they wouldn’t be able to do this on the next day.

“Just give us a few minutes to get changed,” he begged, lifting the chiton Bokuto had brought for them. “I’ve been dead for months, I could use some fresh water,” he laughed.

“You sure smell better than him,” Kuroo countered, pointing at Tooru with a smirk.

Hajime already liked this one.

Beside him, the owl-fury’s eyes were sparkling with joy. He gazed at Hajime and for a split second, he acted like he was going to embrace him, only catching himself when his fellow fury dragged him out by the arm.

“I’m not sure they’d like a buff guy like you jumping on him when he’s naked,” Kuroo snorted. “Alright then, ten minutes!” he called on his way out, eyeing Tooru briefly. “We’ll gather the others. Meet us near the court, Cerberus will escort you.”

* * *

All traces of fatigue long forgotten, Tooru navigated in the Underworld as if he owned the place, holding Hajime’s hand in a protective grip, dragging him around and rambling about whatever it was that Hajime wasn’t listening to.

The latter couldn’t take his eyes off his boyfriend. Tooru had come all the way to the Underworld to save him, he had earned Charon’s trust, befriended the Erinyes — well, two of them, at least —, charmed Cerberus, defied Olympus and all logic, and wrapped Gods and Goddesses around his finger, and still he was talking to Hajime as if none of it was a feat on its own.

Tooru was just glad to have him back, and none of what he had gone through mattered more than the result — the outcome he had forced himself not to ever doubt.

Hajime pulled on Tooru’s hand to bring him closer and pressed his lips against his, as if it was enough to tell him how much it meant to him.

“What was that for?” Tooru frowned, coming to a stop while his boyfriend picked up his pace to hide a laugh. “Hajime, were you even listening?” he added with a pout that he somehow managed to turn into an accusing expression.

“Nope, not at all,” the other grinned, lighthearted and gleaming with pride. It was a rare sight that immediately softened Tooru, even though he tried to hide it behind his fake scowl.

“So, how far are we from the place?” Hajime asked.

Tooru lifted his chin pettily, looking down on his boyfriend. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me–” His lips quivered and he fought hard to suppress a grin. “–we still have a ten minutes walk. It’d be faster if we could ride Cerberus, but he won’t let us.”

On these words, the mortal glared back at the three-headed beast that was following them around, pointing at him in an excessively theatrical move.

“I’m not a horse,” the dog reminded him, blowing hot, foul-smelling air through his six nostrils.

Tooru seriously hoped he didn’t have snot in his hair.

“Then what are you even good for?” the mortal grumbled, not even flinching when Cerberus bared his teeth at him. “Mortal-sitting? That’s lame.”

“I am the guardian of the gates. I make sure no soul ever leaves this place,” Cerberus reminded him, pushing him with his wet snout — Tooru was certain he had saliva on his back.

Hajime turned to the dog, raising an eyebrow, purposely ignoring the begging look his boyfriend sent him.

“So, what are you gonna do when we leave?” he asked carefully, studying the animal’s body language.

The answer was short, matter-of-factly. “My masters forbade me to hunt you down.”

The creature’s olive, unsettling gaze fell on Hajime. However, contrary to what the mortal had expected, Cerberus wasn’t being hostile. He only did the job he had been raised for. It immediately made him much more sympathetic to the mortal’s eyes, and he allowed himself to pat the giant beast’s paw, much to his boyfriend’s horror.

“Hajime,” the other started, his face pale, and Hajime could hear the “ _do you have a death wish?!_ ” that his boyfriend screamed internally. “This is _Cerberus_ , not a cute little puppy!” Tooru pointed out under his breath, pulling his lover closer and out of reach of the creature who could devour him in less than two bites.

“You sure you don’t want to keep him?” Hajime couldn’t help but joke in a light tone.

He burst out laughing when Tooru gasped.

“You’re so lucky I love you!”

They walked the rest of the path bantering as always, Cerberus curiously watching their exchange. Eventually, a flickering light appeared where the court should have stood, warm and dancing unlike anything Tooru had seen in the Underworld.

There, where the net had stood across the court only a few hours ago, people were gathered around a giant bonfire. A proper, real fire — not the blue torches from the Underworld.

“This one’s for Hiro,” Hades laughed, throwing what looked like lettuce into the flames in the traditional offering way.

The other was going to retort with something when they spotted the two mortals — or most likely, their three-headed companion — making their way to the crowd. Takahiro took one second to appreciate the way the new chitons made them stand out — plain white, with a turquoise line on the edge and leaves embroidered near the shoulder. Hajime wore the fibula that had been retrieved in the depths of the seas, and Tooru a brand new one that represented a finely sculpted laurel wreath in the shape of a lyre. Persephone had picked the outfits themselves, and on this one rare occasion, both Akaashi and Issei had approved the choice.

“Oi, you’re late,” Persephone called, addressing a wicked grin to Tooru who stuck his tongue out like a spoiled brat.

Hajime greeted them with a quick nod, stopping a few steps away to scan all the faces that had gathered to say one last goodbye to Tooru.

Next to the Goddess sat someone he didn’t recall having ever seen anywhere in the Underworld. From the powerful aura he was radiating, there was no doubt this person was a God. He was the only one who didn’t bother to clap his hand on Tooru and Hajime’s shoulders. Instead, he stared into the flames, fascinated or uninterested — Hajime couldn’t tell, but he had the nagging feeling that taking his eyes off him would be a terrible mistake.

“Who’s that?” Tooru whispered when he too noticed the stranger.

“No idea,” Hajime replied, a frown creasing his forehead. “You don’t know him?”

Hades passed an arm around each of them, conspiratorially meddling in the conversation. They hadn’t even heard him approaching.

“This guy over there is named Sakusa. Oh, he’s Thanatos, by the way,” he added lightly, as if this was just another title.

His smile broadened as he watched the mortals’ expressions melt into shock. As soon as it hit them, the two mortals stared at Hades and took a step back.

“Are you kidding me?!” Tooru blurted out.

At the same moment, Hajime tensed, studying the God of Death. “What is he doing here?!”

“Hades, I swear if this is a trick—” Tooru started, glaring at his boyfriend when he kicked him in the shin without any mercy.

The ruler of the Underworld grinned slowly, deadly, his eyes fixed on the arrogant mortal.

“You’ll what, now?” he lilted. “Be careful, Tooru, this is the second time you nearly threaten me.”

Near the bonfire, Thanatos let out a weary sigh.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” he declared, standing up. His large wings briefly covered the flames and his mere presence dove the place into a coldness that Hajime had only experienced once.

Instinctively, he stepped closer to Tooru, placing himself between the God of Death and his lover. Tooru huffed offendedly and grabbed his hand to pull him at his side. They were in this together.

“I won’t harm you,” Sakusa grumbled, turning to glare at Hades. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come.”

“Oh, come on, they’re mortals, this is their default reaction to death!” the other God begged, pointing at the humans. “You can’t stay in your cave all year long!”

He turned to Takahiro for support, and the deity shrugged before they faced the two mortals.

“Thanatos is on his day off, today, so no worries, we can have fun without anyone dying.”

They stared at everyone pointedly and dropped back onto the bench where they had been sitting a few moments ago. From the look on their face, it had been an exhausting day, and they’d rather be anywhere else. And yet… yet, they had chosen to come and bid goodbye to the mortals. It had to mean something, for the Goddess of Spring to get out of their way to be there for humans.

“Tooru, Hajime, there’s food for you two beside me,” Persephone added, pointing at the plates near them, clearly set aside from the rest of the buffet. “I personally made sure it wasn’t from the Underworld, so it’s safe for you. I swear it on the River Styx,” they added, rolling their eyes when Tooru opened his mouth to say something again. “Gee, Tooru, relax. We don’t want you to stick around either!”

The mortal raised an unconvinced eyebrow but he didn’t object. Meanwhile, working in the shadow, Hades was busy making sure that Thanatos didn’t run away, bargaining and offering everything he could think of. Eventually, it was someone else who managed to convince Sakusa to stay with them, help coming from the most unexpected of places.

A short redhead took place in front of Thanatos, complimenting the God’s wings and relentlessly asking him questions about his job. Nobody could resist Shouyou’s radiant energy, not even one of the most feared Gods of the Underworld.

“This dumbass has no instinct of survival,” Charon swore beside Tooru, earning himself an amused grin.

The mortal turned to him, a mix of surprise, fondness, and tease on his face.

“Oh, Tobio, I didn’t know you were here. So, how are things going for the little guy and you? What does he think of the Underworld?”

The ferryman glanced at him, a slight frown furrowing his eyebrows.

“He hasn’t seen much yet, we stayed here to practice,” he said, as if it was obvious, reminding Tooru of the way he had talked about volleyball when they had met — it had happened only a few days ago, but it felt like another life. “But he spent half the time throwing Ushi the ball, so we didn’t get to do much,” Tobio continued, his frown deepening.

“Ushi? Who’s that?”

Tobio pointed at the giant dog behind them, raising an eyebrow, an infuriating expression on his face. “Cerberus? He’s been following you around since day one and you didn’t know he had a name?”

Immediately, the mortal turned around to face the dog, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You had a name and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Names don’t matter in the Underworld,” the creature huffed, and Tobio nodded, as if it supported what he had claimed on the first day.

Great, Charon was siding with the dog, now.

Tooru rolled his eyes. He turned to his right, expecting to find Hajime, one eyebrow raised at him, the hint of a smile on his lips, waiting for his annoying boyfriend to comment on the situation, but nobody was there beside him.

Tooru’s blood froze in his veins.

His first reflex was to look at Thanatos, but the man hadn’t moved from his spot, still under Icarus’ spell and Hades’ watch. The fire roared, its heat licking Tooru’s skin as he spinned around looking for Hajime. Panic flowed up inside of him. It couldn’t end like that. Not after all he had gone through.

He stumbled forward, face pale and stinging.

A hand on his back steadied him and anchored him back into reality.

“He’s alright. Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san stole him. They’re chatting over there,” Akaashi said, his calm and composed gaze grounding Tooru and helping him breathe again. “They won’t let anything happen to him. But you should eat something,,” the man continued, leading the mortal to a bench and sitting him down beside Hades and Persephone.

He came back a few seconds later and sat down next to him, a plate of bread, grape and cheese on his laps, along with a cup of something that definitely wasn’t water-coloured.

“It’s not nectar, is it?” Tooru asked, bringing a shaky hand to his lips.

“It’s pomegranate juice,” Takahiro grinned, bending forward so that they could look at the mortal. “It’s my way of reminding Issei that he’s not as good at flirting as he thinks he is.”

The other grumbled, taking his eyes off Thanatos to look at his partner. “I’ve already apologized for that trick, how long are you gonna bring it up again?!”

Persephone’s grin widened even more. “For as long as I can.”

Tooru plucked a grape, then another, each fruit making him feel more at ease. He wasn’t sure how long he had been starving for, but his stomach growled as he cleaned the plate and stacked food on a new one. He devoured as much as he could, talking to the Gods with his mouth full and nearly choking on bread when Hades made him laugh.

Eventually, he prepared another plate and jumped to his feet, Minos following him.

“You know, I hadn’t seen Bokuto-san so happy in a long time,” the judge whispered, breaking the silence.

Tooru slowed down to send him an interrogative look.

“Really? I thought he was pretty sad when we met, but he got better as soon as he got you back. Trust me, I know what it feels like,” he laughed, his smile lingering a bit longer on his lips when the flames highlighted a blush creeping on Akaashi’s face.

“He’s going to miss you,” the judge continued. His gaze was piercing, and for a second, Tooru was confused by the attention. “But he’s going to be even sadder when you come back eventually,” Akaashi finished. “Live a long life, please.”

With a sigh, the mortal cracked a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back when my time comes, but I don’t plan it on being anytime soon. Same for Hajime. Next time you see me, I’ll take your man back to Olympus again to kick Apollo’s butt.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” the judge agreed, stopping to shake the mortal’s hand.

If Tooru hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that it was in the land of the dead that he had met the most welcoming people he had seen in his life.

* * *

They found Hajime in the middle of a conversation with the furies. As soon as Bokuto spotted Akaashi and Tooru coming toward them, he waved enthusiastically, bringing a smile to Minos’ face that the man didn’t try to hide. The whole team was reunited again, with the addition of Shouyou and Tsukishima. Everybody was talking as if Hajime and Tooru weren’t going to leave in a few hours only, as if everything wasn’t going to be totally different as soon as the two mortals would be gone.

Kuroo looked around at the crowd that Tooru had managed to gather around himself. Even though Tsukki was wary of him, Kuroo could tell he had some kind of respect for the mortal — as respectful as Tsukishima could be. Something had happened during that last set in Olympus, and the cat-like Erinye had the certitude he would be able to drag Tsukishima onto the court again.

Beside them, Bokuto was being loud, so noisy that Titans could probably hear his laugh from the deepest places of Tartarus. Even though he looked like he wasn’t paying him any attention, his feathers brushed Akaashi’s back, never breaking contact. That’s Bokuto, for you. He revolved around Akaashi even when he wasn’t aware of all the attention he gave the judge.

Even Charon had changed in the few days Tooru’s stay had lasted. The man looked as gloomy as always, but there was a light shining within him, or maybe a shadow that had dissolved as soon as he had gotten Icarus back at his side. His presence was more intense than it had been when he was only a ferryman. He looked less lonely, too.

Wandering souls were approaching the bonfire, drawn by the liveliness of the place, by the laughs and by the light that radiated from people. At least, Icarus would still be there to shine once the other mortals would be gone.

Beside Kuroo, Daichi was grinning, actively taking part into the conversation. Since the fury had brought a message to his former lover in the Mourning fields, the man was brighter, less guilty. Kuroo wasn’t sure where this was going to lead him, but he couldn’t wait to figure it out.

Hopefully Tooru would be less of a brat when he’d come back after his legitimate death. The Underworld was sure to be a very interesting place again in a few more years.

“Soooo,” the fury started, bringing all the attention to him. A smirk stretched his lips as he eyed the crowd. “This is a goodbye, huh?” His gaze slid on Tooru, wandered on Hajime at his side. “You better take care of your idiot. Keep him with you as long as you can. We’ve already got enough of him down here,” he grinned.

“I agree with him on this one!” Takahiro’s voice rose from the other side of the bonfire.

Tooru didn’t even bother turning around. He flipped them off behind his back, causing the deity to burst into laughter.

“We’re still gonna miss you,” Bokuto admitted in a low voice, his expression melting into genuine sadness.

“They’ll be back, eventually, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi assured him.

He gazed at the other, offering him a small smile that Bokuto was the only one to get out of him. The back of his hand stroked the soft feathers of the fury’s wings and he slowly relaxed into a more peaceful mood.

Beside them, Tobio stopped fighting with Shouyou to stare at Tooru, the shorter guy’s fist in his hand to prevent him from annoying him more.

“Maybe you’ll actually make it to Elysium this time,” Tobio said.

It was probably a genuine statement coming from him, perhaps even a cheer, but it still Hajime had to step on Tooru’s foot to keep him from picking a fight with the ferryman. He smiled mockingly at his boyfriend when he yelped, slipping his hand into Tooru’s to keep him still.

If family could be found, Tooru had earned one from the darkest place. He’d be back, one day, Hajime at his side, but first they had their own lives to live.

Hours passed by until sleep caught up on the two mortals. The Gods stayed near the bonfire while the others walked the couple to the tent. It was time for real goodbyes, and more than one tear was shed in the Underworld that night.

“Hey, Kuroo,” Tooru called, catching him by the arm before he vanished into the night. “When we’re back, you better update me on your situation with Sawamura,” he grinned, laughing when the fury clawed at him.

Eventually, Kuroo softened, pulling the mortal into a tight hug before he let go of him.

“Take care, Tooru. We’ll be watching over you two from here.”

On these words, the last remaining fury walked away from the tent and the mortals that had made the world a nicer place.

“You’re being sentimental again,” a familiar voice called out, coming from Kuroo’s side.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking at the soul that had joined him.

“Kenma, I knew you were around. No wonder why these guys were sleepy,” he eluded, but of course it wasn’t enough to fool the other.

“Are you going to cry?” the son of Hypnos teased, the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Shut up, it’s just your aura affecting me.”

“My power doesn’t work on you,” Kenma pointed out, his eyes glinting like a cat’s in the darkness, matching Kuroo’s.

“It’s dust. Allergies.”

Kenma’s smile widened, mocking. “You’re crying.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

The Underworld swallowed their voices as they walked to the gates together.


	16. Up the rocky path

It was weird, not having one of his teammates waking Tooru up in the morning. What was even weirder, however, was waking up to the faces of two deities staring down on him from up close.

Issei and Takahiro grinned at him and his first reflex was to close his eyelids and roll on his side.

“Looks like someone doesn’t want to leave the Underworld,” Persephone mocked. “That’s selfish, don’t you think Hajime has already spent long enough here?”

Tooru tensed up, slowly sitting up, and both the Gods jumped when Hajime replied in Tooru’s stead, his voice dry and his tone sharp.

“And whose fault is it?” he snapped, his boyfriend’s arm falling to the ground as Hajime straightened up out of sudden. He glared boldly at the taunting deity whose smile had faded away, unsensible to the way Hades clenched his jaws. “He braved everything coming down here because of a God’s whim, he’s the very last person you’re allowed to call selfish.”

The Underworld held its breath. Tooru stared at his boyfriend wide-eyed, agape, as Hajime refused to avert his eyes from the Goddess’ look.

He was the only one allowed to talk shit about his boyfriend. He may be full of flaws, selfishness wasn’t one of them. And he knew how much harm such words could do to Tooru’s mental state.

“I think it’s about time we leave,” Tooru intervened, glancing at Hades who nodded slowly. He carefully pulled on Hajime’s arm to get his attention, offering him a small smile when he finally looked back at him. “Persephone’s right. Look at you, you’re so pale you’re probably gonna burn in the sun.”

The other let out a weary sigh, running a hand over his face. “I think this place is getting to me.”

He glanced once more at Takahiro, no trace of an apology in his eyes, and turned to Hades.

“So, how do we leave the Underworld?” Hajime asked, his expression closing again when the Gods exchanged an uncomfortable look.

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Issei started, raising his hand when the mortals frowned in front of him. “There’s one rule to honour for humans trying to leave our kingdom.”

“If you break it, you’re doomed,” Takahiro added, staring pointedly at Hajime.

Tooru really hoped he hadn’t angered the deity… it would be a pretty ominous thing to do right before leaving such a dangerous place. His fingers slid along Hajime’s arm and he intertwined their fingers, squeezing briefly.

“What do we have to do?” Tooru took over, hoping to get Persephone’s attention off his boyfriend.

“When you’re on your way, it will be the two of you only. You will lead the way, since you’re the one who came here to get Hajime back. The condition is that you can’t look back, ever. Not even for one second.”

“Or else?” Hajime asked. His mouth was dry when he spoke, and his grip on Tooru’s hand tightened ostensibly.

“Or else, your soul will be lost. Forever,” Issei insisted gravely, his eyes on Hajime. “Nobody will ever be able to do anything for you. You won’t even exist in the Asphodels anymore, you will simply vanish from existence.”

Tooru blew from his nose, his eyelids closed and his face serious.

“Well,” he said, snapping his eyes open and looking at the deities. “There is no way I’ll let this happen.” Hajime squeezed his hand harder, almost painfully. “So, all I have to do is to not look back?”

Takahiro nodded slowly. “That’s it.”

“And you can assure me that Hajime will follow me? No trick will get him stuck somewhere while I’ll be able to go forward?”

“As long as you don’t look back,” Issei confirmed.

“Alright,” Tooru smiled, turning to Hajime. “You ready to go? Oh shit, the house is gonna be so dusty…”

* * *

The four of them stood in front of an opening in the bare wall of the cave. Charon had taken them across the Styx again, and this time, Tooru hadn’t been alone with him on the boat.

“Hey Tobio?” he had called, looking back over his shoulder. “You better win the next matches against Aristos. I want us to be the unchallenged champions when I’m back.”

The ferryman had nodded seriously, and Tooru had been certain he would be true to his words. Two winged figures had circled in the sky on the other side of the bank, laughs echoing in the cavern-like realm, and Tooru had walked forward.

From now on, he wouldn’t look back.

“Remember, you can’t look back,” Issei insisted once more, nearly putting his hands on Tooru’s shoulders to make sure he had understood.

“Yes mom, I know. Don’t look back, no matter what. I think I can remember something as simple.”

Again, the two deities exchanged a worried gaze. Eventually, Takahiro approached Hajime. They rubbed their neck nervously and let out a long sigh.

“Hey listen, about this morning… Sorry, I didn’t want it to come off as rude. I was just trying to tease him.”

Tooru raised an eyebrow, waiting for Hajime’s reaction, and the latter only shrugged, shaking his head.

“I was a bit stressed out, my bad.”

“Now that everybody’s friend with everybody, should we go before Persephone is late for spring again?” Tooru said, clapping his hands together and grinning like the proudest man ever when the other three raised an annoyed eyebrow at him.

The two Gods grinned fiercely, and the mortals grinned back.

“Until next time,” Hajime said, waving at them.

“All it takes for you to go home is a little bit of trust,” Issei declared.

Tooru turned to him. “In you, or in Hajime?”

The Gods didn’t reply. When the humans blinked, the two of them had vanished, leaving the mortals alone.

Tooru took a second to study the entrance of the path that would lead Hajime and him back to the realm of mortals. It was so dark he could barely make out the first turn, similar to the way he had come from days ago.

He reached back, holding his hand out for Hajime to take, and started when Hajime tied a rope around his wrist.

“Since you can’t look back, this will assure you that I’m still there. I’ll be right behind you, Tooru. Don’t turn back. Never. I’ll keep talking.”

He pushed him in the back, slightly, and Tooru pulled on the rope to test the tension.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Let’s go home,” Hajime replied.

* * *

The two deities watched as the mortals stepped into the darkness. Issei crossed his arms over his chest. Beside him, Takahiro played with the fabric of their dress. The flowers on the hem had started blooming, the sign that they were expected in the realm above.

“Ah, Tooru was right, I’m late.”

They laughed hollowly, dropping the fabric, when a thought suddenly came to their mind.

“Um, Issei? Have you warned them about the last part of the journey?” they asked, their voice blank.

Takahiro flicked a concerned glance to the labyrinth that led to the mortal realm.

Beside them, the other God tensed up.

“ _ Oh shit _ , I knew I had forgotten something!” Issei hissed through gritted teeth. His gaze followed the other’s, trying to pierce through the darkness. “They’ll be fine, right?”

Takahiro hesitated.

“Yeah, they will... “

* * *

Hajime followed Tooru up the rocky path, dodging the small pebbles that tumbled down in Tooru’s trail and laughing every time the other complained that water was dripping onto him. They chatted all the way, making the long journey pass faster.

Hajime’s hand was wet and dirty from following the moist wall, but he didn’t dare take it off. His other hand was clenched tight around the rope he had tied to his wrist, their literal lifeline.

“Hey, Hajime?” Tooru called, and like every time, the other startled, afraid that Tooru would look back at him by reflex.

Yet, he kept his gaze on the horizon line, careful.

“Yeah?”

“What did it feel like, in the Underworld? Before you were granted a body again, I mean…” His voice faltered uncharacteristically, and Hajime pulled on the rope to tell Tooru to slow down.

“Don’t turn back,” he reminded him as he pressed a hand between Tooru’s shoulder blades.

The path was only illuminated by glowing crystals embedded in the walls of the cavern, and he could barely make out the outline of Tooru’s body.

“It was… cold, and dark,” Hajime explained slowly, the memories flowing back by violent flashes before his eyes. “I can’t describe what it was like, not to have a physical body. I think I still had vague memories, or more like, the essence of them. From time to time, I was summoned to the surface, and it was like someone pulling on a string. Even then, when I could see and move, I think I was truly a ghost. You know, there and still not quite real.”

“I’d come back for you anytime,” Tooru declared firmly, leaning back into him.

Hajime laughed softly.

“I know,” he said. “Thank you.”

Tooru reached behind to ruffle Hajime’s hair, his gaze fixed on the farthest shape he could distinguish, and he gradually picked up his pace again.

The landscape started changing as they kept walking. The narrow corridor opened on a broader chamber, and the rocky ground became smoother before Tooru could brush dust with every step.

“I think we’re almost there,” he declared, and two minutes later, he perceived a faint light coming front.

It started as a spot, so tiny that Tooru was convinced he was hallucinating at first, but the closer they got, the more blinding the light was. Tooru’s heart raced faster with every step he took, and he was nearly running by the time he could clearly see the walls of the cave.

Tooru could see the trees on the other side of the exit when he noticed that the only footsteps he heard were his own on the ground.

He took a few more steps forward, just to make sure. Only two feet echoed against the wall.

As soon as he noticed, the rope fell loose in his hand and he froze.

“Hajime?” he called, a nervous laughter breaking out of his lips. “Hajime, please, it’s not funny. Answer me. Touch me. Please, do something.”

His voice was more high-pitched with every word, the rhythm more pressing.

“I’m right here!” Hajime shouted behind him. “Tooru, don’t turn back, I’m right behind you! We’re nearly there!” he yelled.

But of course, Tooru couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t know that Hajime had discorporated again, only a ghost flickering in the rays of sunshine.

Hajime could only watch in horror as Tooru twisted his body toward him, his eyes resolutely on the outside he could neatly distinguish. The air smelt like rain and grass, flowers were only budding, not quite ready to bloom.

“Hajime?” Tooru cried, his voice breaking on the name.

For the first time, Hajime caught a glimpse of what his boyfriend had gone through when he had lost him.

Tooru extended his arm behind him. His hand was shaking.

Hajime reached out to meet him. His palm went through the skin and he cursed all of Olympus for having them fail so close to the end.

Because of course, Tooru wouldn’t resist looking back. He had already lost Hajime once, and now he was sure he had lost him a second time. Mortals could never emerge victorious from a fight against the Gods, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Hajime whispered when eventually, Tooru turned to him.

He had tears in his eyes, and Hajime’s hand brushed his cheek right before he faded away. In their cruel irony, the Gods had allowed them to touch one last time. Again, it hadn’t even been long enough to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm collecting tears of my readers [here](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver).  
> Don't hate me now, read the epilogue!


	17. Epilogue

“You tricked me. You tricked me, you tricked me, YOU TRICKED ME!!” Tooru yelled into the forest, falling to his knees and scraping his palms on a pine’s bark. “I trusted you, and you tricked me,” he added in a whisper, sobs getting the better of him.

He couldn’t even bear looking at his bare hands, so pale and bloody, clinging to the rope that he had thought would be their way out.

But there was no way out of the Gods’ scheme, he should have known better. There never was one.

He pressed his hands onto his eyes, smearing dirt and blood all over his face, staining his once immaculate chiton.

What even had been the point of going down there, if it had been bound to end this way from the beginning?

The Gods were cruel, he should have known. They didn’t take pity on mortals. They didn’t give second chances. All that they took, they took for good.

Tooru didn’t know how long he stayed in the same position. Hours, probably — shadows had moved when he became aware of his surroundings again.

He looked back one last time, as if expecting Hajime to stand in the entrance with a sad smile, but of course no one was there. There wasn’t even an entrance anymore, only a hill.

Footsteps came running toward him and he didn’t bother standing up. He wanted to look as miserable as he felt inside. He had had enough of hiding his true feelings, it required more strength that he had left.

He had lost Hajime, for good.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” someone warned, and the next thing he knew, the pink-haired Goddess of Spring was taking Tooru by the shoulders and staring straight into his eyes. “Thank me, you’re alive!” they exclaimed with a genuine sigh of relief.

He couldn’t look them in the eyes, so he closed his and turned his face away.

A hand brushed his back, carefully, and someone knelt down in the mud beside him — he hadn’t even noticed it had started raining.

“Tooru?” Hajime’s voice whispered softly. “Tooru, I’m here. I’m here, I’m alive,” he said, slowly pulling the other against him.

A muffled noise resonated near them when Takahiro dropped to the ground, their face toward the sky and their eyes closed in relief. There was the faintest smile playing on their lips, but it was weak, almost bitter.

“I’m glad we found you in time,” the deity declared.

When they glanced at the mortals, both alive and sobbing, they knew they had taken the right decision. A proud grin stretched their lips and they allowed themselves to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The Goddess of Spring, a brave and loyal mortal and one that had been saved twice by the strength of his bond with the other, all sitting in the rain near the Doors to the Underworld.

“How are you even back?” Tooru asked, clinging to Hajime and pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

His hands were hooked in the other’s chiton, desperate and terrified.

Hajime ran his hand through Tooru’s hair until he was calm enough to hear his voice.

“I think some people down there really grew fond of you,” he laughed, tightening their embrace. “Honestly, I think I can understand why,” he added, laughing again when Tooru groaned against his skin.

He pulled away just enough to look Hajime in the eyes, forest green against bark brown, and cracked a smile through his tears.

Takahiro disappeared to give the mortals a little privacy. Elysium or not, they were sure that these two would always find each other, be it in this life or all the next ones.

After all, it wasn’t the first time they had saved each other. Persephone and Hades were familiar with Orpheus and Eurydice, with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and all the names they had borne and would get in their next lives. There were two halves of the same soul, and not even all of Olympus was strong enough to keep them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you to everyone who read this until the end and to the people who left comments, you made my days brighter <3  
> I'll be back soon with more Iwaoi and some more Greek mythology AUs!


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